Not Quite A Love Song
by BecauseIWasBored
Summary: Sanji and Zoro fall in love a not-so-typical way...And it starts when Zoro's mistaken for a prostitute. XD SanjixZoro Yaoi/Shonen Ai Rated for swearing.
1. For A Throw

**Not Quite a Love Song**

Chapter 1: For A Throw

The _Going Merry _docked at about two in the afternoon, just as Nami predicted. Once the anchor was dropped, Ussop was left on guard duty and the rest scattered through the village. It was a small town, and even from his the outer ring of it, Zoro could still see _Merry _very clearly ("Of course you're still going to find some way to get lost, baka-marimo."). The buildings and shops were clustered together in neat rows on either side of the street, most of them no higher than two stories high. They were lackluster places, with plain but tidy structures and paint jobs that were neither hideous nor eye-catchers. The residents were just as mediocre, straight, colorless clothes replacing any shape with harsh angles. They didn't speak-or maybe just not to them- calm expressions bordering on being emotionless if it weren't for the nervous glances they gave him when he first stepped on the docks. It made no difference to him, the villagers made no move to stop them from passing through, so Zoro didn't see any reason to bother them.

_Although it would help if I could find a goddamn bar in this freakin' town, _he growled, _and if that damn sea hag hadn't made me leave my swords_. Zoro's teeth ground together in irritation, his right hand lightly brushing over his hip where his swords used to be. Without the familiar weight of the steel blades in their scabbards and the dull _clack _as they brushed together, his side felt uncharacteristically unbalanced and awkward. Nami told him it was so he wouldn't scare the locals. Zoro called it bullshit. The Bitch-

_("What did you call Nami-san you shitty marimo?!")_

-just did it to piss him off. She was that kind of person no matter _what _the shitty-perverted cook said otherwise. Running a hand through his hair, Zoro gave another quick scan of the street. Not a single building with any remote resemblance to a tavern. There must've been some god laughing at him out there. Their supply of ale was long gone and Zoro wasn't desperate enough to start drinking the wine yet. He probably wouldn't drink the sweet piss even if Crap-Cook Sanji let him within ten feet of the stuff. He took one last glance behind him, making sure he hadn't missed a tavern, before turning left towards the markets. He passed three houses when the hand clasped his shoulder.

The first thing Zoro noticed was how big it was. The fingers, thick, calloused digits splayed over the entire width of his shoulder, the thumb resting on the back of his neck. The palm was sweaty, Zoro could feel the moisture seep on to his skin. The nails were a dull yellow with jagged edges that dug into his shirt, the dirt underneath smearing on the white fabric. For a moment, Zoro only stood there, staring down at the hand with mild annoyance. He turned slowly, lazily, feeling no real alarm for the unexpected grab. If this guy (had to be a man, no woman let their hands get so rough) wanted a fight, he'd give him one. Even if he didn't have his swords. His eyes followed up the man's arm, dirt, sweat, and grime making strange patterns on the skin. He wasn't able to see past the elbow, and turned in the man's grip. The hand loosened, fell a little until it almost clutched his arm, but otherwise didn't waver.

The man was just as disgusting as the hand he was attached to. He was a burly, bulbous body attached to stubby limbs that seemed to be mostly fat, His face was found and fat, pockets of skin sagging beneath an almost nonexistent chin. Pudgy cheeks squished his pug nose into their crevice, eyes sunk deep into his face. He hardly had hair, if that was what it was, it was all clumped together on the sides of his head and a little on top. It looked more like some dead squirrels pelt.

He didn't have much of a figure, everything was clumped together with no real end and no beginning. His round gut plopped in the middle of blobby legs like a pile of mush. The wife beater he wore, some sickening yellow color that might have been white at some time, strained to cover his belly, flaps pouring out from it under his arms. Despite the short limbs, he still towered over Zoro, his glassy eyes vaguely reminding him of the looks Crap-Cook gave to all the girls he met. He looked like a toad; a big, ugly, smelly toad and Zoro couldn't seem to hold back a cringe of distaste.

The Toad grinned at him drunkenly, running his tongue over his lips. He leaned over him a bit more, his putrid stench reaching Zoro's nostrils. Zoro 's lips pulled further into a cringe, forcing himself to stand his ground and not back away from the man. It would make him look like he was afraid of this man, like he was weak. The glint in ass's eyes darkened as they trailed up and down his body, then returning to his face.

"Hey sweetheart, how much for a throw?"

It took a minute for the question to register, blinking dumbly up at the man for a moment. What the man was asking finally clicked, his cringe twisting into a snarl. Instinctively, his left hand made a grab for his blades, but only grabbed air. Cursing Nami once again, he drew back his fist and slammed it into pervert's beer gut. The man grunted, (more surprised than pained, Zoro noted) letting go of his shoulder as he stumbled back. His feet left the ground and then he was airborne for one slow second, before he struck the ground hard and rolled down the street. The people around jumped out of the way, some making sounds of surprise, some simply staring.

Zoro didn't bother to watch the rest of his tumbling, there was no reason to. Even if he did get back up again, he definitely got the message. He wasn't a cheap whore who sold his body for money. From what he'd heard from towns people and a few crew members, he didn't look like a whore, either. If it meant he didn't have to deal anyone more than he needed to, then it was fine with him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sighed in annoyance, scanning the buildings for a place to get liquor. All the buildings looked the same, and none of them looked like a bar. For a second Zoro wondered if this town had banned alcohol sale, like the island the _Merry _stopped at a few ports back, but continued on his way.

"Oh, I get it. You're playing hard to get, huh?"

Zoro stiffened at the voice, the hot and sour breath brushing over his ear and neck. He turned slowly, because there was still no need to panic. He must not have hit the guy hard enough. Big men like him were usually harder to hurt, all that fat cushioned the blow. Though in the end, they always went down. _But, _Zoro thought, _how the hell did he get up so fast?_

The bastard hardly looked hurt at all. He swayed on feet too small for his size, but there was still a lopsided grin across his face. His eyes were glassier now, not at all pained, tracing over him before coming back to his face. He looked drunk, if nothing else. "You got a little fight in ya," he slurred "I like that. Hate it when they act all fra-jile and can't take it rough." He was looming back over Zoro again, and from up close, he could see a clear trail of saliva spilling over his lips and into a bush of hair barely hidden by the shirt. The whiskey on his breath was much more distinct now, this guy was probably drunk.

Zoro scowled, the smidgen of surprise pricking his chest smothered by annoyance. Drunks were the worst to deal with. When you traveled a lot, you met them all the time. During his time with Johnny and Yosaku, there was one old pervert of a drunk who kept flirting with everyone in the room, no matter what the gender. He ended up getting a bit too friendly, as Johnny put it, Zoro ended up stepping in and breaking his nose to shut him up and ending the night with a brawl. Why a person would ever get so wasted was beyond him.

But if this guy was drunk, then there was a bar at least. Drunk-Ass didn't seem to be anything more than a bother, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with him. _Now where the hell's that bar? _he thought, turning his back on the drunk. Most of the people on the street were going back to their regular business, but some would glance over at him, almost worried. Zoro shrugged the stares off, looking over the buildings as he walked. The man lumbered after him, a bit too close for comfort, but with no real threat to it.

"I'll give ya a cool hundred." Zoro growled a little, picking up the pace a little. If moved a little faster, he could lose Drunken Toad. Toad moved a little faster, keeping up with him, heavy pants making the back of his neck wet and itchy. "Whoa, slow down. I meant to say one twenty. I can tell you need the cash." Zoro's growl was a little louder now, fingers digging into the cloth of his trousers irritably. _Ignore him, just ignore him, _he told himself, _He'll get bored eventually...you can kick his ass after a drink._

"Alright, how about one thirty five? Is that enough?"

Zoro's teeth ground together harshly, his hands leaving his pockets to wipe the spit off his neck. _Maybe I can kick his ass now and then celebrate with some ale. _His hands were sticky now, he noticed, wiping it on his pants. As he brought his arms back to his sides, a large hand clutched both of his wrists in one swoop and whirled him around.

Zoro lost his balance for a moment in his surprise, stumbling over his feet and nearly fall over before he found his footing again. The large fist around his hands gave him a tug, pulling his arms up until he was on the tips of his toes. His nose collided with a forest of hair covering a pillow of flab. The Toad's odor filled his nostrils, Zoro forced himself not to gag. He looked up, the only direction he could move to escape the smell, meeting hazed eyes. He was closer to the man's face now, the top of his head reaching the last sack of skin where he assumed his neck started. The look he was giving didn't remind him of Crap-Cook anymore; and he definitely wasn't drunk.

"One fifty is usually my limit, but for a cutie like you, I'll give you two hundred. I'll buy you something nice too." The man licked his lips again, giving another pull. "How does that sound?" Zoro opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his train of thought had derailed somewhere after 'cutie' and words failed him. The man's grin widened, and Zoro could see one of his lower first molars was a gold one. "Great, let's go." The bastard turned away from him, and Zoro's body was yanked forward under the man's armpit.

His feet were barely touching the ground, pressed uncomfortably against the mans side as he was dragged. Zoro snarled through his teeth, giving his arms a hard tug. "Forget it, creep." he growled, "Get your hands off me." The man's grip seemed to give a little, coming towards his chest to give him the leverage he needed, before snapping back and shoving him forcefully under a massive arm. The hand squeezed, the bones in his wrists grinding together harshly, his boots only scraping the road now.

"There's an inn right over there." the Toad murmured, the arm Zoro was trapped under wrapping around his waist. Zoro grunted a curse, shoving the arm away from him with his shoulders. His feet were back on the dirt, and he used his new grounding to rip his arms out of the iron grip. The man didn't give any slack, yanking him forward into his beer belly. _Why the hell did I let my guard down?!_ he snapped to himself, _A perverted _bastard_ like him shouldn't be this strong! _The man was walking a little faster now, his toes making a dragging sound while running through the dirt. He was pressed more into Toad's front now, his left hip digging into something he _knew_ wasn't a belt buckle.

Zoro's eyes narrowed, his vision blurring at the corners. Balling his fists as best he could inside the asshole's palm. "You _bastard,_" he rumbled, an animalistic noise from deep in the back of his throat. He raised his left leg, pulling it back as far as it could go. "I said let _go!_" With a shift of his hip, his foot propelled forward, connecting perfectly with his stomach, almost his groin.

The Jackass's eyes widened for a moment, taking a few steps back in surprise. His gripped was loose enough for him to pull his hands free, but as Zoro began to slip away from him, the prick strengthened his hold and Zoro found himself tumbling back toward him. His left leg ended up trapped between his torso and the perverts stomach, his foot sinking between two thick skin folds. His arms were held awkwardly over his head, bent in a way where he couldn't pull them forward. Zoro felt the chuckle more than he heard it.

"Slow down with the foreplay, honey." The man slurred, some odd tenderness that made Zoro tense. "We haven't even gotten a room yet..."

Zoro shifted the foot underneath him, pushing away from the man. His other leg dangled above the ground, stuck around the Toad's side, in no position to kick himself free. Zoro pushed his left foot deeper into the bastard's gut, giving his arms another fierce tug. His shoulder blades ground together, but he otherwise didn't budge. _Crap, _he thought, _I can't get free._

_"Let go," _he shouted, arms twisting back and forth in the Toad's hand. "Let. Me. _Go!_" His pressed deeper into his belly, pulling himself up higher to lever his arms. "Get your hands off me you _pervert;_ I said _no!_"

Something long and black shot passed his right, jabbing the man's middle, just below the ribcage. The blob of fat jiggled a little, like one of those desserts Shitty Cook usually made Nami or Robin. The Toad's eyes widened (it was _definately_ from pain this time), plump cheeks puffing up like he was about to throw up. He really did look like a toad now, and Zoro couldn't help but grin.

The hand let go of his wrists entirely, coming to clutch where the black thing hit him. Zoro's right foot touched the ground first, the sudden drop making him off balance and clumsy. He tripped backwards a little, running into someone who gave an unsophisticated 'oomph' in return. Two hands gripped him under his armpits to steady him, pushing him back to his feet. The ass was on the ground, still holding on to his chest. He sat up, painfully, Zoro saw, looking up at him in surprise. The person behind him didn't move from his place behind him, but Zoro could feel eyes looking over his shoulder at the jackass.

"Oi, Shitty Fuckwit. Hate to break it to you, but the shit swordsman isn't like that. If you want a rent-boy, go find a brothel."

Zoro stiffened at the voice, and the smell of cigarettes tingling under his nose. _Oh fuck, _Zoro thought, _Of all people..._He turned slowly, dreading what he would see. Sanji stood a foot away, a cigarette crunched between his teeth. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks, staring hard past Zoro at the man. His hard gaze met Zoro's, taking a long drag of his cigarette and breathing out slowly. "Are you just gonna stand there like a dumbass, or are you coming with me?" He turned around nonchlantly with out another word, walking in the opposite direction.

Zoro caught up with him until they were walking side by side. A glance over his shoulder showed him the man got up again, not looking hurt at all; but this time, he wasn't following. Zoro shoved his hands harshly in his pockets and looked away from him, staring at the sky, the road, the buildings. Anywhere but the stupid cook.

"So what the hell was that Marimo?" Dartboard-brow asked, sounding as smug as ever, "Didn't take you for being a damsel in distress."

Zoro felt his cheeks flare and he turned away. He could feel the stupid grin across the bastard cook's face, he was enjoying every minute of this. "Shut up, curly brow." he mumbled, "I had everything under control..."

"Wasn't what I saw." Crap-Cook snorted, a little bit of the humor gone but still teasing. Zoro couldn't help but wonder how much the bastard had seen. "I was on my way to the market for supplies when I saw the shit head grab you. You better be grateful, I have better things to do other than come to _your _rescue."

"Who said I need to be rescued?"

"The bastard dragging you down the street like a pet that I had to beat the shit out of for you because you didn't seem to be doing such a good job of _that._"

Heat crawled further up his cheeks, fisting his hands into the fabric of his pockets. He finally to the chance to take a glance at Crap-Cook. Sanji was looking the other way, flicking a cigarette into the street carelessly. He faced forward once more, a fresh smoke in his mouth. The fan of blonde hair hid his face, whatever expression he was making out of Zoro's veiw. "So, what now, shit cook?" he asked, "You gonna be going around and telling everyone?"

Sanji was in the middle of lighting when he turned to look at him, mild annoyance written across his features. He flicked his lighter and lit the smoke, turning away as he took a long drag. "You think I'm a dumb ass, Marimo?" he growled, "Do you know _hard_ it would be to explain something like _this?_"

Zoro grit his teeth and opened his mouth to retort. He barely got a word out before the cook started again. "Anyways, unlike you, I have more class than that. I couldn't call myself a man if I went and told people just for the sake of telling. The others don't need to know; and I'm not going to taint Nami-san's and Robin's-chan's purity with you're stupid ass being mistook for a man-slut."They were silent for a long time, purposely looking away from one another as they walked. The heat in Zoro's cheeks died down, and he stared at his feet stubbornly. Bastard cook finished his second cigarette, tossed it aside, and looked up at the clouds before he spoke once more.

"How 'bout this; we go to the market, you carry the bags, we get back to the ship as fast as we can and forget this whole mess ever happened?"

Zoro didn't face him, finding the dirt much more interesting. "Sounds like a plan." he muttered before he finally forced himself to face the road. Most of his blush had already died down, but a small prick of warmth still remained. From the corner of his eye he could see people staring and looking almost relieved, like they were glad the asshole had stepped in and came to his rescue.

He'd never wanted a drink so badly in his life.

* * *

Author's Note: All right! I've updated for once! :) If you haven't figured out already, this was written out of sheer boredom when all my other ideas were tragically stalled by writer's block (laziness). I've read a few stories with the same pairing recently, it didn't take long for me to be addicted. But they got me thinking, and with the added affects of mini tacos and listening to "One Week" by Barenaked Ladies seventeen times in a row, I figured 'what the hell' and sat my ass down and wrote this.

I'm not too proud of this chapter, it was really awkward to write, but at least I got _some_thing down. In everything I read its usually Sanji or Luffy (don't understand why on this one) or one of the girls that gets sexually harassed, so I thought this would be a nice change. Yes, I know that Zoro seems a little weak in this one for not being able to take this guy, I'm aware of that. I would appreciate it if no one called me on it. I don't know how much in character everyone is, so please tell me if they aren't. Any reviews or requests you have are appreciated, even if its flame. :)

Yours Truly,

BecauseIWasBored

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece, or Zoro and Sanji. I do own the pervert, thought.


	2. Stupid Love Cook

Stupid Love Cook

"Oi, pack mule, we're going _left, _remember."

Zoro scowled, "Shut up, stupid Love Cook," he snapped, picking up the two bulky bags of the bastard's newest purchases, adding to the bags he already held, adding following behind him. The stupid self-important amusement behind the cook's words, the kind that gave Zoro the urge to punch him in the curly-browed face, grated against his ears. The bastard was smug since they reached the market, with subtle teasing only the cook could do. A few times the Crap-Cook would pause, like he was daring him to retort, but knew he wouldn't say anything. If the stupid Love Cook wasn't facing the other way, Zoro was sure he would see some satisfied, idiot grin.

The market wasn't as crowded as he thought it would be, excluding a few groups of chattering towns people and wandering shoppers, the street was fairly clear. Then again, the village wasn't very big, and the sun was starting to go down. They would be heading back soon, Crap-Cook needed to get dinner started, and Luffy would be demanding meat. Zoro shifted his arms, smoothing out the ropes so they didn't dig into his skin. Crap-Cook didn't buy much, enough for dinner and to satisfy Luffy, but not much else. "You sure didn't get a lot cook, a bit lazy of you isn't it?"

Dartboard-brow looked over his shoulder to send a nasty sneer his way, cigarette mashed between his lips. "Oh, fuck off, shit swordsman. I had a lot to do today, and _you _certainly didn't help move it along.

An annoying touch of heat wriggled its way up Zoro's neck, the corners of his lips pulling into a tight frown. He _knew_ the Love Cook would rub that in his face, the asshole never let anything go so easily. A haughty smirk twitched at the corners of the bastard's lips, taking a long drag and exhaling mockingly slow as he walked. _Stupid Love Cook, _he thought. "I wouldn't put acting like a dumb ass for everything with boobs on the top of my 'to do' list." he replied, it wasn't the greatest comeback in the world, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Crap-Cook's lips fell, flicking aside his cigarette; Zoro guessed it was good enough. "The hell do you know, baka-Marimo?" he growled, turning away sharply. Zoro smirked, the tint of warmth draining from his cheeks. He shifted the bags again (stupid ropes kept tugging at him and made his arms itchy), trailing carelessly after the curly-brow. The Love Cook wasn't talking anymore. They were even for now, that was good enough for him.

"I just need one more thing, then we can head back. I need to get dinner started anyways."

"So what're we having, Love Cook?"

"Brandied beef fillet."

Zoro's brow furrowed, "Never heard of it."

"That's because you have no sense of taste." Sanji glanced at him from the corner of his eye, some emotion stuck between entertained and irritated shining at the center of it. "Uncultured hick."

"Curly browed snob." Zoro returned as the Love Cook faced away from him, regarding the shops. Zoro watched him, glaring at the back of his head. Love Cook moved lazily, looking the stores up and down on one side the other as he walked. Zoro didn't know what the hell he was looking for; he couldn't bring himself to care much, either. All the specifics about spices and marinating and all the other crap the stupid Cook went on about never made sense to him. The food always turned out good anyways; he didn't see any reason to know.

Dartboard-brow's pace faltered, jerking right suddenly, blonde strands swinging with the motion. Sanji vaulted, Zoro nearly falling. He false stepped back a few paces, feeling the air move as the Cook passed, a small sound of surprise from the back of his throat leaving him. His eyes followed after the cook when he regained his balance, blinking dazedly after him. For a moment, Zoro couldn't figure out what the stupid Cook was so excited about, but looking past him over his shoulder he saw a skinny brunette working a herb stand. Zoro scowled, teeth clicking together hard. _I should've known, _he thought, a spark of annoyance moving to follow reluctantly after the Love Cook.

"-Fair maiden, how lovely you are in this afternoon light. It's like you're a rare flower in a garden of weeds. How I-"

_Stupid Love Cook, _he told himself, shaking his head irritably. He averted his gaze in the other direction with a roll of his eyes, staring out at the ocean while waiting for his to finish. The roads were almost empty now; a few of the shops were starting to close. There was still a fair distance between the sun and the horizon-it wouldn't be dark for a few more hours-bright, warm, colors only beginning to paint the sky. It was very quiet, he noticed, and briefly he wondered why he hadn't heard the others passing through.

"-Sweet beauty, you are so kind. What may I ever do to repay-"

Zoro glanced at the Love Cook from over his shoulder. Dartboard was leaning over the stand's counter to grasp the girl's hands, stroking them lovingly between his own. There was a small paper bag beside him, but it was apparently pushed aside and forgotten. The storeowner smiled and nodded politely, discomfort shining clearly in her dark eyes. She was shorter than the Love Cook, the top of her head coming to just below his chin. She didn't look different compared to any other girls he'd seen walking around, except for mouse brown hair tied back in a braid. Her clothes looked heavy on her, Zoro noted, her figure hidden from view. She bit her lip, her eyes looking at him over the Cook's shoulder, a small, apologetic smile gracing her lips.

Zoro sighed, shifting the bags before he approached them. The Love Cook didn't seem to notice or was ignoring him, spewing nonsense-

"-Delicate hands such as yours shouldn't be harmed on manual labor-"

-and damned if it wasn't irritating. "Oi, Love Cook." he growled, "Time to go." Curly Brow kept his back to him. He was still telling the girl all those stupid little sentiments-

"-With a charming young lady here, I'll be sure to return-"

"Move it already, Cook!" he spat. His left knee shot up, hitting the Cook hard in the back, right above his ass. The Love Cook gave a yelp, letting go of the girl's hands as he straightened. He gripped the place where his knee connected, gritting his teeth in a low hiss. The storekeeper had a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking from withheld laughter.

Love Cook whipped around hands still holding his back. His lips were pulled back into a sneer, curled eyebrow scrunched, and his one visible eye narrowed to only a slit of fury. The corners of Zoro's lips twitched upward. "What the _hell_, shit head!?"

"We need to get back to the ship, dartboard," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He paused and, as an afterthought, added, "Nami and Robin are going to be wanting to eat soon anyways." Sanji blinked at the mention of the girls, all trace of anger drained from his face. "Ah," he said, sounding surprised, "That's right. I forgot all about Nami-san and Robin-chan."

He turned back to the girl, picking up the paper bag still sitting on the counter. "I'm sorry, miss. I have to leave now. I regret not being able to stay longer."

She nodded, giving another polite smile and nod. The Love Cook blew a kiss to her as he walked away, holding the bag carefully. Zoro sighed; giving a stern nod to the girl he meant to be as an apology. She arched an eyebrow, head cocked in confusion. Then it seemed to click and she smiled, an emotion Zoro couldn't identify glinting in her eyes. Zoro let it go.

When they got back to the ship, everyone else was already there. Zoro dropped the bags when his boot met the deck ("Careful, dumb-ass. Some of that's fragile"), yawning widely. His favorite spot by the railing was open, and he went to it. Nami sat nearby, today's paper in her lap, looking up when he passed her. "How was town?"

Zoro tensed, left hand reflexively grasping his hip. Thoughts of the Toad came to him, and heat was rising at his neck again. He grit his teeth and he wanted to move faster, but if he did, Nami might know something was wrong. "Would've been better if I had my swords," he grumbled as he sat down, his back to _Merry's_ wall.

Nami groaned, bringing a hand to her temple to massage it gently. "Zoro, I thought we went over this. You can't bring weapons until you get clearance from the mayor. That's what the harbor manager said."

Zoro glared at her from his place on the floor, "Then I'll go and _get _clearance."

"You dope," she snapped, "It's not that simple!" She had her paper open now, scanning over the articles, "I already filled out the applications we need so we can stay docked while we wait for the log pose. The manager told me it'll be three weeks for the log pose, but it'll be a few days for you can carry your swords."

_A few days, _Zoro thought, staring at her questioningly. "I need to wait for permission to carry my own swords? What's the point?"

"It's just a precaution, I told you that," she answered, turning the page. "This island doesn't have many ships pass through and they don't need idiots causing trouble. It's only for a little while, you'll live, so just keep them in the men's quarters for now." An article of interest seemed to have caught her eye, examining a page a little longer. "And if I hear anything about you bringing swords in town, I'm doubling your debt."

Zoro's frown darkened, but didn't say anything. If he did, she would raise the price, he didn't need to owe her anymore. _How much do I owe her anyways?_ He couldn't even remember; he didn't want to ask. He leaned further against the wood, pillowing his hands behind his head. His eyes fell shut slowly, a small, inaudible sigh escaping him. He was barely beginning to doze when Nami spoke up again.

"You owe me one hundred beli extra, by the way." Zoro jolted awake, sitting up and turning a bit too fast, the joints in his neck popping. Nami was still looking at her newspaper, as if she hadn't said anything at all. "For _what?_" he asked.

"For the paperwork I had to fill out." she replied calmly. Nami's gaze was fixed on a new page; she must've found another article she liked. Zoro ground his teeth together, nails scrapping _Merry's _wood. "You bitch!"

The galley doors burst open, the crap cook in the threshold; kitchen knife in one hand, looking prepared to throw it. "What did you call Nami-San?!"

Zoro's glare shifted from Nami to the cook, about to retort, when Nami set her paper aside to flash a smile the bastard's way. "Ah, Sanji-kun, you're back." she said, and the Love Cook was at her side in a heartbeat, anger forgotten. Zoro watched them, noting how the cook hung on to Nami, clinging to her every word, how Nami would bat her eyelashes while she asked for things to have at dinner from him. Something like annoyance pricked in his chest. _Stupid Love Cook, _he thought, _what the hell do you see in her? _Zoro didn't know the answer to that question, he probably never would.

At least he didn't need to deal with the bastard now. He leaned back against _Merry's _wall, drifting when his head touched the wood. He could still hear them, though their voices started to sound far away. He didn't dream, most days he didn't but it wasn't sleep. It stayed not sleep for a long time, he didn't know how much. He found himself thinking about the Toad, about earlier that day. His thoughts drifted to the Cook, the stupid Love Cook, stepping in and acting like he saved the day.

_Oi, Shitty Fuckwit. Hate to break it to you, but the shit swordsman isn't like that..._

Zoro rolled over on to his right, pushing his shoulder against the wall. Stupid Nami had to ask him how his day was. She reminded him about the Toad. It shouldn't still bother him, so why did it? _Stupid pervert,_ he mused, _stupid Nami, stupid, shitty cook... _He opened an eye, catching a glimpse of them over his shoulder. Nami was still in her chair, on the last few pages of her paper. The Love Cook was gone. Zoro looked away, resting against _Merry _and letting himself drift off. The Dartboard-brow's smirk swam behind his eyelids, teasing him. He woke up four times before the cook called them in for dinner. Each time he began to drift, the bastard was there._ Stupid Nami, _he thought, _Stupid Nami, stupid, _stupid _Cook..._

Dinner passed on without incident, and Zoro lay on the sofa, rolling left and right. Over the snores echoing off the walls, the Cook's voice rang in his ears.

_The shit swordsman isn't like that..._

_ Stupid pervert, stupid Nami, Stupid Love Cook..._

The memory didn't go away until the next morning, when everyone was leaving for town. He has his back to the mast, away from the sun; trying to make up for the sleep he lost the night before. The shitty Cook was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it used to be. It only came in short bursts, rousing him awake before letting him settle again. He heard the others between the intervals, and he tried to ignore them. But so early in the morning, they seemed ear piercing.

"-oro is staying, he can watch the ship-"

"-coming too Nami-swa-"

"-today, Sanji-kun. I don't really feel like going out to tow-"

"-see you in a bit then-"

Then there was silence. Zoro sighed, a small 'thank _god_' leaving with the exhaling breath. He drifted again; the time it took for the memory to surface seemed longer this time. He sat up, rubbing an eye with his palm, yawning widely. The low _clack clack _of shoes on wood reached his ears. He saw Nami from the corner of his eye, wandering about on deck. He shrugged, rolling back into the mast, away from her, eyes closing easily. Nami's foots steps paused for a moment, and started again. They sounded like they were coming closer. She was probably going to get something from the galley or below deck. Her heeled shoes against the deck were loud, and he felt the floor vibrate when she walked by. Her steps paused again, in front of him this time, and she stayed there.

He looked over his shoulder, glaring tiredly at her. She stared right back, hands on her hips, steady gaze seeming to look through him. There was something analytical in her eyes, almost like she was looking for something. When she found it, she gave a curt nod, catching his eyes. "Alright, spill." she said, "What's up with you?"

Zoro eyed her curiously, turning over to face her fully. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"You've been tossing and turning since last night." she answered, "You have to have something on your mind. So tell me, because you're making it hard to focus."

Zoro frowned, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. "And what makes you think I have anything on my mind?"

"Robin told me you seemed a little restless when you came back. You were more sluggish than usual this morning, and you've been rolling around on the deck all morning. It's driving me insane."

The lines of Zoro's grimace deepened, tapping his fingers irritably against his arms. "And what makes you think I'm going to tell you?"

Nami grinned, "Because," she replied, pulling at her orange hair and flipping it behind her ear, "If you don't, I'm fining you another thousand beli and an extra three percent interest for making my work harder to focus on."

Zoro turned away from her, glaring at the wood beneath her feet. She was tapping one of them, impatiently waiting for an answer. He didn't want to tell her, but he didn't want more debt either. "I," he started, "Was just thinking about something Crap-Cook did yesterday." He looked back to Nami. Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, blinking down at him.

"About Sanji-kun?"

Zoro nodded, "It's nothing really, I just didn't expect it." he gave a shrug, looking down towards the village. The villagers looked like ants, scrabbling around the streets as they went about their day. "Kind of made me think, that's all. Don't see why something the Love Cook says gets on my nerves so much, though."

Nami didn't say anything, but the shadow on the floor told him she was still there. He shut his eyes, settling his head down against the wood. Zoro was beginning to doze, but she still didn't move. He could feel her eyes on him, and it made it hard to fall asleep. His brow furrowed in annoyance, and as he opened his mouth to tell her to stop, when she spoke again.

"You idiot."

Zoro's eyes snapped open, looking up to her. She was looking away from him, one hand to her face to rub at her eyelids. "Huh-?" he croaked, blinking dumbly up at her. She didn't seem to hear him, shaking her head while rubbing at her temples. "Honestly," she muttered, but it seemed to be more to herself than to him, "Men are such idiots. Why do you take something that should be easy to understand, no matter what it is, and turn it into one big mess? Really,"

She turned away from him, walking towards the galley. She was still muttering to herself when she went through, and the door swung shut behind her. Zoro stared at the closed door for a second longer, and then shut his eyes. He fell asleep soon after, and thought of the stupid Love Cook didn't come.

* * *

Author's Note: Hurray, Chapter 2! Again, can't say I'm too proud, but it's up. It would've been up sooner, but I have finals and I was sick the whole week. I could barely stay awake. Anyway, It was originally supposed to end where they got back to the ship, but I didn't think the last part was long enough to be it's own chapter. I hope you enjoy. :)

Remember, reviews are welcome. Flames are welcome as well, as long as they're well written and actually have a point.

Sincerely,

BecauseIWasBored


	3. Two Little Boys

Chapter 3: Two Little Boys

Sanji stood in front of the stove, a frying pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. His arms moved constantly, tossing the contents with a practiced ease that almost looked graceful. Nami watched him from her place at the table, her head resting on one of her hands boredly. She wasn't sure what he was making, but it was mostly vegetables, and the pan would hiss and flare every once in awhile.

He had returned about half an hour before noon, the others weren't even back. It wasn't a surprise, Luffy never came until after the table was set, and Ussop and Chopper usually weren't far behind. Robin was probably on her way, she always arrived ten minutes early. Zoro wasn't by the mast anymore, but she could her him clanking his weights around at the stern. He wouldn't be in until someone went to get him.

Nami's gaze darted to the wall blocking the stern, pausing thoughtfully. He was the last one to come to breakfast; it wasn't unexpected, but he looked dead on his feet, like he'd hardly slept the night before. He was out on the deck as soon as he finished what was left (those boys didn't have stomachs, they had bottomless pits), but it all seemed wrong. He would roll restlessly, sitting up every few minutes and lying back down; and it was annoying as hell. To think _him _of all people would have trouble sleeping.

Nami's eyes shifted back to Sanji. He still had his back to her, humming in time with the rhythm of the spoon. It was a bit surprising to hear that Zoro was losing sleep thinking about him, she didn't know what to do with the information at first.

She'd known there was something between the two of them. Somewhere along the way, it came to her. They were at ends almost nonstop, like it was _fun _to drive one another insane. Some days, Nami thought that was the only reason. But for two guys who seemed to live for being at each other's throats, Sanji and Zoro were strangely close.

It was more obvious with Zoro, in some ways. He never really looked at women, not in the time she knew him, at least. Nami recalled an incident at the bathhouse in Arabasta, when all the men were peeking over the wall, she couldn't remember seeing Zoro. At the time, and for a little while afterwards, she brushed it off as one of his catnaps. It may have been sometime after that when she noticed how he acted different around Sanji. She wasn't sure, but she couldn't help but see something flicker in his eyes whenever Sanji was with a girl. It was small though, gone in an instant, and she doubted even Zoro knew he did it.

Sanji was a bit harder to read, the things he did were subtler, almost unnoticeable. Sanji was usually by his side in just about every fight, and when he couldn't be, he was usually there when it was over. Most nights when they stopped at port, Zoro would disappear for hours, whether it was because he was at a pub or from getting lost. Sanji was still the one to bring him back; she didn't even need to ask him like she needed to the first few times it happened. It didn't really seem like anything at first, like with Zoro; but after awhile, Nami sometimes got the feeling that the look he gave Zoro had a small bit of the look he gave her and Robin. He didn't seem to notice though; she doubted anyone else had, either. Except maybe Robin, but Nami never asked her. It might just be her imagination, for all she knew.

They were like school children, when she thought about it. Two little boys with crushes. It reminded her of Nojiko, back in the Coco Village. There was a boy who lived near the docks, but Nami couldn't think of the stupid kid's name for the life of her. Hell, she barely recalled what he even looked like. But she did remember that Nojiko pushed him, and the boy ended up having his arm broken in two places. Genzo yelled at her, asked her why, and Nojiko told him that he made her mad. A few days later Nami got hold of one of her papers, it was covered with hearts and his name-

_(Fuck, what the hell was that brat's name!?)_

-written all over it. Nojiko hit her hard when she found out, her cheek was swollen for a week; Nami smiled.

The boys were in the same situation, weren't they? For some incomprehensible reason, men were incapable of grasping anything emotional. They probably wouldn't know what they were feeling if it bit them in the ass. Most days, Nami was glad she wasn't a man, she couldn't imagine being so confused all the time.

But if Zoro was losing sleep over Sanji's words, then it must've meant something. Maybe whatever it was between them was a bit deeper than she thought. If that was the case, maybe it could go deeper. Nami looked up, studying Sanji's back carefully. He had set the spoon down at some point, holding a bottle over the pan, tapping out a dark red powder lightly with his fingers. Nami sat up a little, both arms resting up on the table. "Sanji-kun?" she called gently, just enough to get his attention.

Sanji set the pan on the counter and was at her side in a heartbeat, kneeling over to be at her level. He was smiling, a dumb love struck look, hands clasped together expectantly. "Ah, what can I do for you my lovely Nami-swaaan?" he cooed. It took all of her self-control not to roll her eyes.

"Oh, nothing right now Sanji-kun," She smiled, a bit to wide to where it almost hurt. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, Nami-san."

"You've met a lot of other girls, right?"

Sanji's smile faltered, eyes widening by a fraction. He blinked down at her, looking stuck between surprised and maybe a tad embarrassed. Then he was smiling again, a small chuckle in his voice. "If you're jealous, then there's no need for you to worry. I've met many fine ladies, but my heart always belong to you." There was something shallow in his eyes that didn't seemed to hide behind his words. Nami smiled.

"But you've gotten a few invitations to bed, right?" Part of it was curiosity, she always wondered how many girls fell for his chivalry...and if this could go deeper, it would be nice to have someone know what to do. Zoro was out of the question, she doubted he knew much about romance, and she wasn't about to babysit and hand out step-by-step instructions. If it came to that though, she would need to make a bill to go with them.

Sanji's smile slipped from his lips, a light tinge of pink coloring his pale skin. He turned away from her, raising a hand to cough. "I," he started, pausing to clear his throat, "I've had a few..." He trailed off, the light pink darkening to magenta.

The corners of Nami's mouth twitched, "Oh, don't be embarrassed, Sanji-kun," she made sure to keep her voice soft, batting her eyes sweetly, "I don't mind, I was just curious. You're nineteen after all." Sanji glanced at her, right hand still covering his mouth. His face was still flushed, but it had died down a little. Sanji dropped his hand, mouth pulling back into a wide smile, "Ah, Nami-san, you're so understanding." he sighed. He returned to his post at the counter, setting the pan back on the stove. Nami's gaze trailed him, resting her head in her hands. "I'm not surprised anyway," Nami, continued, "With charisma like yours, you were bound to attract attention."

Sanji chuckled, shoulders arched. "You flatter me, Nami-san." there was a smile in his voice, but he sounded embarrassed, "But, yes. I supposed a few women have fallen for me..." he trailed off again, picking up the spoon beside him to give another stir. Spice was filling the room now, and it made her nose itch.

"Ever gotten any men?"

Sanji jerked forwards, nearly spilling the pan o the stove. Sanji steadied his hand, setting it down carefully before turning to her. The curtain of blonde hair covered most of him, but the skin underneath was a dark fuscia. "P-pardon, Nami-san?"

Nami grinned, "Come on, Sanji-kun," she purred, leaning further over the table, standing from her seat. "It's a big sea. And with a great catch like you, there's bound to have been a man to fall for you." Sanji opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. His face and neck were a deep red.

"I bet you could charm anyone, Sanji-kun." she was out of her seat entirely, striding over to him. Sanji didn't move, watching her with wide eyes. "Do you think you could prove it to me?"

Sanji blinked, turning to face her completely. The smile was back, but it wasn't as wide as it was before. All the blood in his cheeks must've made it difficult. "I'll do anything you ask of me, Nami-swan." The corners of her lips turned up in to a smirk. "All right then, I want you to," she paused, leaning closer to him to whisper the last part. "Charm Zoro."

Her words didn't seem to register, but after a minute, Sanji's smile dropped completely, the blush following. His eyebrow raised, the curl at the end of it coming close to touching his hairline. His gaze was blank for a moment, a bit of disbelief shining through. He blinked it away, eyes staring into hers, opening his mouth slowly. "W-what, Nami-san?"

"Zoro," Nami repeated, "I want you to charm him."

"But, Nami-san," he stuttered, "Why the Marimo of all-"

"Come on, Sanji-kun; I'm sure you could do it." Nami bat her eyes a little, pushing her lips to make a small pout. "How could he resist you?" When he opened his mouth to protest, she added, "And if you do this for me, I'll make it up to you. You and me can go and do something in town together."

Any contradictions Sanji was ready to make were gone in an instant. The love struck smile was back, hands clasping hers. "I'll do whatever you say, Nami-swaaan."

Nami smiled, "Thank you Sanji-kun. Would you mind making some ice drinks to go with lunch today?" Sanji nodded, turning back to the stove, and facing the pan. Nami sat back down, watching him cook with her head held up by her hand. There wasn't any need to do anymore; if whatever Sanji and Zoro had could be more, it would take a small push to get them going. Even if it couldn't, it would be nice to have some alone time without Sanji on her heels; and she could gather plenty of blackmail along the way. Nami couldn't bring herself to stop smiling.

* * *

Author's Note: Ah, another chapter. Not my favorite, but that's because I _suck _at writing contemplative, feels too much like I'm just stating. When I get the chance, I'm probably going to revise it. For now this is what I have. -_-' At least I got to embarrass Sanji-kun. (Sorry Sanji) Nami's a manipulative little minx, isn't she?

If you hadn't figured it out by now, this isn't going to be one of those things where everyone falls in love right away. I always hated it when people did that and just put something corny like, 'he'd always felt some attraction to...' because no offense, that's just fucking lazy...And now I feel like a hypocrite because that's exactly what I've done. Only difference is that they're oblivious and in denial. Sometimes I just can't win. But again, don't expect a big love confession in the next few chapters. Sorry.

Well, thanks for all the support. I'll try and update a bit faster.

Yours Truly,

BecauseIWasBored


	4. How Hard Could It Be?

Chapter 4: How Hard Could It Be?

Sanji found the Marimo out on the deck, sprawled across the wood like a dead weight. He almost _looked _dead-at first glance, at least, but the rise and fall of his breathing ruined the image. He'd picked the middle of the floor of _all _places to lie down; everyone would have to step over (or simply forget the over and just step _on_) him if they wanted to get anywhere. His limbs were spread in every direction, like he wasn't taking up enough space, and Sanji wondered how the hell the idiot could find the ground so comfortable. He wanted to kick the Marimo-bastard, just to get him out of the walkway, but he doubted Nami-san would approve. He was supposed to charm the bastard, kicking him would look like he was discarding her request.

A cigarette rolled lazily between his teeth, grinding at the end in his mouth whenever he took a drag. His back was to the galley wall, a few steps away from the Marimo. Sanji watched him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks, still fiddling with his smoke. The Marimo never once stirred, he wouldn't be up for another hour or so. His mouth hung upon, the corners of his lips pulled back a little in time with his inhales.

_Dumbass, _Sanji thought, _how the hell is anyone supposed to charm _you_? _Of course, that was what Nami-san asked of him, but she had a good reason for everything she did. He didn't need to question the why behind it; now the only thing left was the how.

"Luffy, give it back!"

Sanji tore his gaze away from the swordsman to the starboard side of the ship. He could hear Luffy laughing; the whole damn _harbor _probably heard him. He came bounding through from whatever the hell he was doing at the stern, Ussop not far behind. A ridiculously wide grin was spread across Luffy's face from ear to ear, Ussop's bandana clutched in one of his hands.

"You jerk," Ussop snapped, "Give it, already!" He reached for the end trailing behind Luffy, only off by a few inches when he grabbed at it. Luffy's foot hit Marimo instead of wood as he ran by, burying deep into the idiot's lower stomach. The Shit-Swordsman's teeth clenched together, the lines of his frowned darkening, and he curled into Luffy's sandal with a low grunt. Luffy didn't slow, didn't even look, still laughing as he disappeared around the corner. Ussop was more careful, slowing down enough to step over to step over him, muttering a nervous 'sorry' before darting after Luffy.

_Idiots, _Sanji thought, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite himself. When he looked back to the Marimo he was sitting up, glaring tiredly in the direction of Luffy and Ussop's fading voices. He was rubbing an eye with the back of his hand, his other arm stretched above his head. He started to lie down again, but halfway there he jerked back to his feet and stood. Marimo didn't look at him when he walked away, working his arms in wide circles and popping the joints.

He took another drag, taking out the cigarette to exhale a cloud of milky grey. It was almost finished; he would need to throw it away soon. The Shit-Swordsman was on the other side of the deck now, near the ram figurehead. He was leaning over the rail facing the ocean, staring at hell knows what. Sanji didn't move for a minute, twirling the dying cig between his middle and index fingers lazily. It was a bit sooner than he expected (maybe sooner than he _wanted_), but he promised himself to follow Nami-san's wishes as soon as the dumbass woke up.

He walked slowly towards the Marimo, a stiff, mechanical motion with hardly any knee bend and arms pushed tightly to his sides. The Marimo didn't turn, and a small, annoying voice in the back of his head had the nerve to ask: _Can you do this, 'Mr. Prince'? _It reminded him briefly of the Crap Geezer back home, and he crushed it dead. _Nami-san _believed he could, that was enough. He never _tried _to charm a man, but how different could it be from girls? _It'll be a cakewalk, _Sanji told himself, _you can do this. Do it for Nami-san._

The Marimo looked his way when there was less than a foot between them. He was ruffled from sleep; clothes wrinkled and a little dirty, a light shine of sweat on his tanned skin. He seemed bored, half lidded eyes scanning over him before catching Sanji's gaze. "What do you want?" he asked.

Sanji flicked his cigarette over the rail, pulling his lips back into his best smile. It made his face hurt. "How are you today, _Zo-chaan?_"

The tired disinterest in Zoro's features was gone in an instant; shoulders tensed just enough to be barely visible as he blinked up at him. Sanji could see the light trace of pink crawl into the Marimo's cheeks; it and his smile fall into a more natural one. It came out a little harsher than he intended, but it seemed to work just as well.

The Marimo's fist was suddenly flying towards him. Sanji felt the air move and he jumped back, a small sound of surprise from the back of his throat leaving him. One of the Marimo's knuckles grazed his left cheek, and Sanji felt the floor come up to meet his back. The cheekbone pulsed numbly, and then stung; and the world felt like it was spinning for a second. _Holy shit, _he thought absently, _how the hell did that _pig _manage to drag him?_

He opened his eyes vaguely aware he even closed them at all. The Marimo stood over him, clamped fists shaking at his sides. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, but the blush was darkening into a deep red. "You bastard," he growled, "You just can't _wait _to rub that in my face, can you?"

The Marimo stepped over him, and Sanji heard an angrily muttered 'shit cook' under his breath. His harsh footsteps faded away as Sanji sat up, the movement making his head throb. He thought of going after him, but it wouldn't do any good.

_This might take awhile…_he thought, nearly twenty minutes later over the chopping board, His cheek felt tender, it was probably swollen, but he hadn't checked yet. It felt more under his eye than anywhere else; maybe it was covered. He cut slices of beef evenly, the annoying sting ignored, setting the finished pieces aside. It would still be an hour before dinner, but the meat would take awhile to cook. It gave him time to himself anyways; the idiots could be so noisy some days. It made it hard to think, and he needed a new plan for the damn Marimo.

The galley door creaked open (Ussop needed to oil the damn hinges) and the sound of high heels on floorboards reached his ears. Sanji set the knife down, glancing over his shoulder enough to catch a glimpse of long black hair. "Ah, hello Robin-chwan."

"Afternoon, Cook-san." She greeted, a subtle smile tracing her lips. When he faced her fully, the smile fell. "Are you alright, Cook-san?"

_Damn, _he thought, _it's not as covered as I thought. _Sanji's smile widened and he brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. "It's nothing, Robin-chan. Don't let me worry you."

Robin-chan studied him for a second longer, before a satisfied smile spread across her thin lips and she gave a small nod. "Just thought I ask," She paused to glance over her shoulder out the galley door. "Swordsman-san is certainly acting peculiar."

He blinked, "Hm? The Marimo?"

Robin-chan nodded, still looking out the door. Her smile was amused, but the glint in her eyes was something he couldn't identify. It seemed almost concerned. "He's been ill tempered all afternoon," she said. Robin-chan did turned to him this time, one nimble and graceful hand pointing outside. "You can see him from here."

Sanji came to her side, and she stepped out of the way enough to let him stick his head out. The Marimo was shirtless and barefoot by the mast, his weights held out in front of him in almost a stranglehold. The swings were erratic, like he was trying to hit some invisible enemy right in front of him. The Marimo's face was crimson, from either the work or from still blushing, Sanji couldn't tell. "He's going to hurt someone." Robin-chan commented after a pause.

Sanji went back to the stove, taking the lid off the pot of string beans to give them a stir and setting the beef in another pan. He heard Robin-chan pull out a chair and sit down over the hiss. "Need anything, Robin-chwan?"

"No thank you, Cook-san."

The kitchen fell silent as the hour rolled by, excluding the sounds of bubbling oil and dull ding of a wooden spoon against metal pots. A familiar, savory scent filled his nostrils and he drank it in; dinner was just about ready. The galley porthole was losing light the next time he checked through it. Robin-chan hadn't moved; absorbed in a book she brought with her. Sanji smiled, shutting off the stove.

He grabbed a plate from the stack he set aside on the counter, setting silverware and glasses of water at the place settings. He made the girls' meals first, adding extra beef and rice, string beans bent into careful heart shapes. He didn't waste time on the boys; theirs didn't need to look nice. He tossed a few spoonfuls of everything and a slice of meat, pausing in the midst of setting the last plate down. Metal tongs still hovered over the pan, and Sanji added another piece of beef and a few more generous scoops of rice. He hesitated then; bending the string beans like he did with the girls almost cautiously, but they were more threes than hearts. Looking it over, Sanji shrugged. It was worth a shot, he was out of ideas.

"Oi!" he called, "Dinner's ready!"

Luffy was the first through the door, bursting into the kitchen with enough force to make the floor shake. Ussop was beside him; he'd gotten his bandana back, Sanji noted. The idiots came bounding to the table, pushing and shoving until they were in their seats. Chopper came toddling in then, hooves clip-clopping against the wood. He waved to Sanji, only a tad shyly, and Sanji sent a careless wave back. Nami-san was after him, lovely red hair falling around her smooth face, the tips kissing delicate shoulders. Sanji ran to her. "My lovely Nami-swaaaan, is there anything I may do for such a fair beauty?"

"No thank you, Sanji-kun." She replied, raising a hand to wave him off. She walked past him, pulling out a chair to sit between Chopper and Robin-chan. He smiled as he walked back to the counter, picking up the plates and striding back to them, a bit more grace in his steps. "Nami-swan, Robin-chwan," he cooed, setting their plates gently in front of them, "If there's anything you need, just let me know."

"Thank you, Sanji-kun," Nami-san answered sweetly, giving a bright smile that made his heart flutter. Sanji felt something tug at the bottom of his coat. "Saaanjiii, where's _our _food?"

"Just wait a damn _minute_, you shitty rubber boy." He hissed, raising a foot to give Luffy a harsh kick in the back. The skin beneath his shoe gave and his foot sank into it before being repelled again. Kicking Luffy was like kicking a mattress.

Luffy let go of his jacket, and Sanji set down his plate with a grunt. Luffy's interest turned from him to the food, digging into it with manners that made Sanji cringe. The other plates he set down absently, already turning away from them. The boys attacked their food more than actually eat; it made his insides churn with disgust. "Oi," Sanji snorted, "If you're gonna eat like a bunch of animals, maybe you should eat outside."

The squeak of the hinges made him turn-

(_Damn, long nose. Why doesn't he fix the stupid hinges!?_)

-and the Marimo trudged in. He had the decency to put on a shirt at least, though he was still barefoot. His clothes were drenched, his shirt see through and useless where it clung to him. Looking down at his feet, Sanji saw a puddle of water pooled around him. "You're dripping on my floor, Marimo," he sneered.

The Marimo caught his gaze and scowled. The rage in his eyes was a bit startling, much darker than the glare he usually gave. Sanji guessed that the Marimo was still holding a grudge. "It's water, you stupid cook." he snapped, "It'll dry."

Sanji opened his mouth to retort, but Nami-san looked at him expectantly, and he closed it. _Right, charm the bastard, _he thought,_ I have to charm the Marimo bastard. _He nodded as an apology to her, setting the Marimo's plate in front of him. "Just don't get it everywhere," he grumbled. When he looked around the table, the only place left was across from the bastard, the girls were sandwiched between Chopper and Luffy.

Sanji groaned, but not enough to be audible, reluctantly sitting down. He ate slowly, watching the girls from the corner of his eye. They chatted happily with one another, laughing occasionally and smiling as they spoke. It made him smile, and he forced himself to look away to focus on his food. A rubber hand stretched across the table's surface and Sanji lifted his plate away from it. The hand felt around for a moment, and then retreated to another part of the table. He set his food back down, taking another spoonful of rice and popping it into his mouth. The sauce he used on the meat was mixed into it; the two flavors worked well together.

"_Ow!_ Zoro that _hurt!_" Sanji's eyes shot up, the spoon still between his lips. Luffy was holding his hand to his chest, his other hand rubbing over the top close to the knuckles, half glaring and half pouting in the Shit Swordsman's direction. The Marimo was glaring back at him, his left hand pulling his plate possessively towards the edge away from Luffy, the right hand holding his fork like he would to stab someone. Sanji blinked at that, wasn't the Marimo left-handed?

Zoro turned away from Luffy, sticking his fork into a piece of beef without looking and taking a bite. He ate quietly, unlike the boys sitting next to him, actually chewing before he swallowed. As much of a pain in the ass the bastard was, at least he had a _smidgen_ of manners; Sanji could give him that much. Sanji took another spoon of rice and swallowed, watching the Marimo curiously. He was staring indifferently in the wall's direction while he ate, but didn't seem to be looking at anything. He never once even _glimpsed_ at his plate. Sanji's brows furrowed together, grinding his teeth into the metal of his spoon when he took another bite.

Shit-Swordsman's eyes tore away from the wall and met his gaze. The Marimo stiffened, looking startled, and a small flick of embarrassment gleamed in his dark eyes. It was gone in an instant, the corners of his lips pulling down into a scowl, stabbing a square of meat violently and stuffing it angrily into his mouth. He didn't look at the plate, and his glare didn't waver. Sanji glared back, his bites a little harsher now. _Stupid bastard…_

Sanji tried again in the morning. The sun was barely up, the porthole window his only source of light. He held a bowl steady with one hand, cracking an egg against its edge and letting the white and yolk fall into it with the other ingredients. He dropped the shell into the sink, grabbing a whisk to mix the bowls contents together. It was a bit thick, he decided, grabbing a partially used bottle of milk set nearby and pouring a little more in. There was a small bowl of chocolate chips sitting on the counter, Sanji took it and poured them in as well.

The pan was already heated, and he ladled the batter into it carefully. He guided it with a spatula when he put the ladle down, moving the fat liquid to make a heart shape. He pulled back to admire his work, turning towards the table when he was satisfied. It was already set; he took care of that before he started. He'd taken a look at his face while he was at it; the bruise didn't look as bad as he expected. An ugly purple speck was just below his eye, the rest of his left cheek was a red tinge, mostly covered by his hair except for a small patch by the bridge of his nose. Sanji frowned, _The second this is over; I'm kicking the Marimo's ass._

When he turned back to the stove, the batter was bubbling nicely, and he flipped easily it with a flick of his wrist. A sweet aroma filled his nostrils, the pancake a fair golden brown. He pressed the top of it lightly with the flat of his spatula. The teapot on the other burner was still had water, Sanji turned on the gas and the flame flickered to life. He was still holding the bowl, he noticed, and set it down beside the one he already used. There was a tall stack of pancakes beside it, covered up to stay warm. Sanji flipped the one in the pan once more. It was the same color was the back, and he set it on a new plate.

The others would be up soon; the kitchen was almost completely illuminated. Sanji sighed, picking the bowl and ladle to add more batter to the pan. He made another heart, just as carefully as the first one and set it on the same plate when it was finished. There was still enough batter left in the bowl to make one more; he _knew_ there would be, even when he was praying for the off chance that he miscalculated somewhere along the line.

His arm felt heavy as he scraped the last of the mixture, and moved reluctantly over the pan. It dripped down slowly, a low hiss ringing in the silence of the kitchen when it touched the metal. He had the spatula in a death grip; he could see his knuckles turn white when he shifted the batter around. The annoying voice was back, screaming at him how stupid he was being, but it was crushed back down thoroughly. It _was _stupid, an old wives' tale, but he couldn't come up with anything better; and Sanji had yet to meet someone who didn't appreciate a nice meal. _Do it for Nami-swan, _he told himself; _Nami-san knows what she's doing. _

When he picked it up out of the pan, it was less of a heart and more of misshapen, upside down spade. It was much more angular than the first two, the ends sharp corners instead of gentle curves. It was bent to the left rather than centered and a bit too wide; it looked squished. Sanji left it, the plate with the stack in one hand and the one with the hearts in the other. He set the stack down first, picking up a fork and tossing them on the plates easily. The hearts were put on top, and Sanji brought them with him when he turned back to the stove, taking the Marimo's as an after thought. The stupid bastards would eat them other wise, he'd lost count how many times that happened.

As soon as the plates touched the counter, the silence was shattered by a clatter of voices. Sanji nearly lost it, losing grip of the ceramic dishes when his shoulders tensed. The clinked against each other; spinning on the wood and slowing to a stop. Sanji turned slowly, teeth grinding together. Luffy and Ussop were already at the table, half of breakfast already gone. With no other noise, it seemed unbearably loud; Sanji's ears were beginning to ring. "Oi, shitheads," he snapped, his hand dug into his breast pocket reflexively, it was to early to deal with them without a smoke, "You'll be eating in the harbor if you don't shut it."

Ussop was quiet almost immediately, his eyes meeting his gaze and dropping to his plate a second later. Luffy turned to him, cheeks bloated with food, holding out his plate expectantly. He might have said something, but it was muffled by chunks of pancake. Sanji's teeth nearly broke through the cigarette when he set it between his lips. "There's more right in _front _of you, dumbass! Get it yourself."

Sanji turned away, opening the cupboard above him. The mugs were on the top shelf; he picked up two of them. The teapot sang and Sanji clicked it off. Robin-chan's and Nami-san's tea when they walked in a few minutes later. Sanji dropped his cigarette in the sink and flew to them, pulling out their chairs when they sat down. "Good morning, fair ladies. You both look so lovely on this fine morning."

"Thanks Sanji-kun." Nami-san yawned, her red hair was disheveled from sleep, and it made her look adorable. "Is breakfast ready?"

"Coming right up, Nami-swan."

Zoro wasn't at the table by the time everyone was eating; he was probably still asleep. Sanji gave a hard kick to the floor. The wood groaned a little under the force and the floor shook a little. "_Oi, _Marimo!_ Get the hell up here!_"

The Marimo came stumbling in a few minutes later, almost drunkenly. That was a surprise; he didn't expect him to be up for another hour. He was never a morning person-Sanji wasn't sure _what _person he was-the dumbass looked like he was sleep walking. He slumped into his seat, elbows on the table to hold up his head. He yawned widely; a loud, almost animalistic sound that made Sanji cringe.

"Get your elbows off the table," he chided, "Didn't anyone ever teach you any etiquette?" It was too early in the morning for the Marimo to be fully awake; his glare had hardly any threat behind it. Sanji rolled his eyes, picking up the Marimo's plate from the counter and setting it in front of him. There weren't any seats left except in front of the Marimo, and Sanji sat down with a soft groan. He caught Robin-chan's gaze when he looked up to her, and he smiled. She smiled back, one of her arms sprouting from the table and passing him his plate out of reach of grabbing hands. "I saved yours, Cook-san."

Sanji took it from her, and the hand vanished in a rain of cherry blossom. "Oh, thank you, Robin-chwan. You're so thoughtful."

She smiled and turned back to her plate, cutting out a small piece of the heart and bringing it to her lips. Sanji's grin widened, making his pancake into small squares. His eyes shifted to Nami-san as he took a bite, she still looked tired, but he managed to meet her eyes. She smiled to him (even so early in the morning her smile was lovely), and motioned to the Marimo. Sanji blinked, the corners of his lips dropping a little. _I still need to charm the Marimo…. shit. _His smile faltered into something more sheepish, nodding a yes to her and turning to the Marimo.

The idiot wasn't even looking at his plate. His eyes were almost completely closed, cutting off bits with the side of his fork and guiding them to his mouth. The Marimo barely got them in; a few times it took him more than one try. He stilled had an elbow on the table (_the unsophisticated hick)_,hand holding up his chin. He was staring at some spot on the table jadedly; Sanji doubted he even _knew _what he was eating.

Sanji's teeth ground together, "Do you ever notice anything, you stupid swordsman?" he hissed.

The Marimo glanced up at him, one eyebrow arching tiredly. He finally looked at his plate, his head drooping heavily on his hand. He didn't move for a while, Sanji thought for sure he'd fallen asleep. When he looked back up, he was a bit more awake, sleep hazed eyes glinted with confusion.

"You made triangle pancakes. So what?"

Any comment Sanji was prepared to retort with perished on the tip of his tongue. The Marimo went back to eating, and didn't say another word throughout the rest of breakfast.

The Marimo was back out on the deck by mid afternoon. He was under _Merry's_ ram figurehead, back to the wall and arms crossed over his chest. The idiot was the first thing Sanji saw when he stepped out of the galley, Nami-san and Robin-chan's drinks in hand. He didn't give the Marimo a second glance, catching sight of Nami-san from the corner of his eye.

"Nami-swan, Robin-chwan," he called, "I have your drinks ready."

They were sitting at the table set out by the wall, and he darted for them. Robin-chan looked up from her book when he drew closer and smiled. He smiled back, setting an iced tea beside her. "For you Robin-chan," he said, turning to Nami-san and setting lemonade down, "And for you Nami-san."

"Thank you, Sanji-kun" she replied, looking up at him with vivacious brown eyes. Sanji's heart fluttered, giving a small bow before strolling away. He saw the Marimo from the corner of his eye again, but something made his legs stop working and he stopped. He was still sleeping. _And I still need to charm you, _he thought dryly.

The chime of laughter rang through his ear and broke his thoughts. Nami-san was laughing, one fair hand covering her mouth as she did. When she calmed a little, she lifted her glass to her lips, taking a small sip. Her smiled widened as she drank.

Sanji paused, watching as she set her glass down, and turning back to the Marimo. He gave on last glance at Nami-san, and stepped back into the galley. What he used for Nami-san and Robin-chan's drinks was still set out. Sanji pulled out another glass, and got to work.

It was much simpler than what he would normally make, but knowing the Marimo, it was forgivable. The green fluid swirled in the glass, ice clinking as he stepped outside. He sauntered towards him, one hand reaching into his breast pocket for a smoke. The Marimo didn't move, not even when he towering over him. Sanji stuck the cigarette between his teeth, set the glass by his right knee, and walked away. He sat down on the rail across from the girls, pulling the lighter from his slacks and flicking it.

It was ten minutes later when the Marimo sat up, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. He didn't get up right away, but he didn't look at the glass. _I swear, _Sanji growled, _If he doesn't notice I'm gonna kick his-_

Zoro glanced to his right, directly at the glass. He stared at it for a moment, picking it up slowly and holding it at eye level. He almost looked confused, like he didn't know what to do with it. Sanji took a long drag, exhaling slowly. He never stopped watching the Marimo. Shit-Swordsman glanced at him, and Sanji was sure he saw the bastard roll his eyes.

He stood up, glass in hand, and trudged across the deck. He went the long way around, away from Sanji, walking by without a second glance. Sanji's gaze followed him, one eyebrow arching quizzically. _Where the hell's he going?_

The Marimo stopped in front of the girls, and set the glass down between them. They looked up at him, the lines of their brows furrowed with confusion. The Marimo might've said something, but Sanji was too far away to hear. He turned away from them, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers as he strode back across the deck. When he was halfway back to his spot on the deck, he stopped and faced him. His mouth was knit in a tight frown, eyes narrowed in what Sanji guessed was annoyance. "You shouldn't be making drinks if you're going to forget about them, Love Cook."

It took a second for what the Marimo said to sink in, and Sanji couldn't think of a response. Zoro's gaze searched him for a moment, then paused at a spot he found interesting. He stared at it, and the bastard had the nerve to smirk. "You might want Chopper to take a look at that bruise, Dartboard-brow."

* * *

Author's Note: Ah, this chapter was so much fun to write. :D I don't know how good it really is though, some of it feels a bit out of character. This might be another chapter that I'll revise. It feels a bit long, maybe I should've split it in half…Still, it was fun. Sorry it took so long, I feel bad for making everyone wait. Hope you forgive me. I never really took Zoro for being a morning person, and I don't know if you can make pancakes into the shape of hearts, but it works for this…I want triangle pancakes now, though. XD

This has to be my favorite chapter so far though, I kind of feel bad for Sanji now. Then again, he kind of brought this on himself. XD

Thanks for all the feedback; you make me feel so special. I'll try to be faster with the next one, I already have an idea on how it's going to go. See you soon!

With Love,

BecauseIWasBored

PS: An imaginary cookie to anyone who guesses what Zoro was mad about.


	5. Never Give Up Is Overrated

Chapter 5: "Never Give Up" Is Overrated

"Nami-san, I can't do it."

Nami looked up from her maps, catching a glance over her shoulder. Sanji stood at the foot of the stairs, hands shoved deep in his pockets and shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. He met her eyes, and there was something incredibly guilty written across his face, the kind kids would wear when they knew they did something wrong. Nami set her pen down, turning her chair to face him fully.

"What do you mean, Sanji-kun?"

Sanji dropped his gaze, shame mingling with the guilt. His hands twitched towards his jacket, Nami guessed it was for a cigarette. "I'm sorry, Nami-san," he murmured, "But the Marimo's hopeless. I can't do it."

Nami blinked, for a moment wondering what the hell he was talking about; then something in her head made a connection, and she nearly fell out of her chair. "You're giving up _already!?_"

Sanji flinched, "I'm sorry, Nami-san."

"But," she sputtered, "But it's only been a day."

Sanji looked up to catch her gaze, still looking guilty as he shook his head. "It can't be done."

Nami's mouth fell open, words forming in her head but dying on her tongue. She closed her eyes and sighed, looking back up to Sanji before trying again. "Why not, Sanji-kun?"

"I've tried everything, Nami-san," he groaned, a hand running tiredly through his hair as he turned away from her. "The stupid swordsman is so god damn clueless; I'm all out of ideas." A sheepish, slightly irritated smile twitched at the corners of his lips. "I don't think _anyone _is capable of charming that moron."

Nami fell back into her chair, arms hanging limply at her sides. She looked down at the stair beneath Sanji's feet, mouth falling open just a fraction wider. _This _was certainly unexpected. Then again, looking back to earlier in the afternoon, perhaps it _shouldn't _have been. Of _course_ Sanji-kun tried to win Zoro over the same way he did for girls, there was no surprise when she saw Sanji step out of the galley, glass of light green liquid in hand that he set by Zoro. What _did _shock her was when Zoro came to her and Robin, and set the same glass down in the middle of their table. The bored, and partially annoyed look he wore said everything before he had even spoken.

_("I think this is supposed to be yours. Crap Cook must've left over there by mistake.")_

If any of Sanji's other attempts ended a similar way, then it was a wonder Sanji didn't come to her the first chance he could find. _Crap, _she thought crossly, _Why the hell didn't I see this _coming_?_

When she looked back up to Sanji, he was staring at his toes, fiddling with the end fabric of his jacket between his fingers anxiously. His hands were twitching again, a bit harder now; it was definitely for a cigarette. The part of his face that wasn't hidden from view by his blonde hair looked dejected, mouth pulled into a crestfallen grimace and downcast eyes flickering between her and the floor. Nami's brow furrowed into a tight frown and hardened her gaze. She stood, stepping away from her desk completely and move closer to Sanji's side. Sanji gave her a quick glance before looking back down again, and she pointed to her chair. "Sit down."

Sanji lurched, shoulders tensing with a small, surprised noise caught between a grunt and a hum. His head shot up, blonde hair moving in all directions; Nami heard the joint in his neck pop and the corner of her mouth twitched into a cringe at the sound. His right eye was wide, visible surprise glinting brightly in it. Sanji's mouth hung open, moving constantly as he tried to form words. "N-Nami-san?"

"_Sit._"

Sanji audibly swallowed and nodded, stepping down from the last two steps and taking her seat. He sat stiffly, with an unnaturally straight back, hands gripping the fabric at his knees until the knuckles were nearly white. His head was cocked to one side as he looked up at her, the one eye narrowed in confusion now. He really did look like a kid who did something wrong, waiting to be scolded for it. Nami crossed her arms of her chest and shut her eyes, breathing slowly and counting to five before opening them again.

"First off, you're going on about this all wrong. Zoro isn't like girls, Sanji-kun. He can't be courted the same way you would normally." Nami ran a hand through her hair, fingers lightly massaging her temple. "Really, Sanji-kun. I thought you _knew _that."

Sanji winced, eyes darting sheepishly away from her. He mumbled a barely audible 'sorry,' a light trace of pink shading his cheeks.

"If you ever want to get anywhere with Zoro," Nami continued sternly, "It has to be simple. Start with little things, Sanji-kun. Just tell him good morning, ask him how his day is going; nice gestures like that."

Nami paused, looking him over carefully. Sanji gave a nod, staring back up at her expectantly. Nami uncrossed her arms, resting her hands on her hips. "When you've done that, try and get to know him better. Find out what he likes, hates, his favorite color; I don't care. Try and find something you two can talk about."

"I don't think there anything worth talking about with that stupid shit." Sanji snorted, leaning into the back of the chair.

The corners of Nami's lips pulled into a small snarl, teeth grinding together. "Damn it, Sanji," she snapped, "_This _is why you're having so much trouble! If you ever want to make this work, you can't keep thinking about him like that."

Sanji shrank into his chair, the fabric of his pants wrinkling where he gripped it. "Sorry, Nami-san," he murmured, barely meeting her eyes, "You're right; that was uncalled for. I was being rude."

Nami sighed, her right hand leaving her hip to point sternly at him. "If you're going to do this, Sanji-kun, I don't want any more of these insults. That goes for nicknames, too. No more of this 'Marimo' and 'Shit Swordsman,' understood?"

Sanji nodded, but the movement seemed stiff. Nami sighed, "Just try to get to know him better, Sanji-kun. You might be surprised. I know you can get him, all you need is a new approach."

A wide, love-struck smile spread across his face. "You're so intelligent, Nami-swan. You give such amazing advice."

Nami grinned, "Do you think you can charm Zoro now?"

Sanji was on his feet in the blink of an eye. "Of course I can, Nami-swan." He cooed, "I can't go wrong with a clever lady like _you_ to guide me."

Sanji bounded up the steps, skipping two at a time to get to the door. "Thank you, Nami-san," he called over his shoulder, "The Mari-I mean, _Zo-ro _will be won over before this day ends."

The door shut carefully behind him before Nami could say anything more. She sat down, pulling her chair back to her desk and picking up her pen. She found the spot she was working on before Sanji came in, and started again. As she drew, her stomach pit fell and churned with dread, she found herself staring up the steps where Sanji had gone.

Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.

* * *

Author's Note: At last, the long awaited Chapter 5. Alternatively titled, "Nami's Romantic Advice 101." Again, sorry for the wait, but with the stupid PSAT's and PACT's, I couldn't get this typed up when I really wanted. I hate the SAT, and I loathe math. ACT I can tolerate. Anyways, looking at it now, I get the impression this chapter might've come a bit too soon. I'm pretty proud of the dialogue though; I don't think I did too badly there. It also feels a bit too short, but at the moment the length works for now. Maybe I'll change later, but for now it's staying the way it is. I really like Nami here though; it was fun to right her lines. ^-^

All your reviews really make my day. I'll try to post again soon, but with track in season, I might be slower. But I'll do my best.

Yours Truly,

BecauseIWasBored


	6. Bonding Exercises

Chapter 6: Bonding Exercises

Sanji was back in the galley, cutting carrots into half circles with steady, robotic motions, a half-used cigarette rolling over his tongue lazily. Nami-san was probably looking for him, wondering why the hell he wasn't outside trying to charm the Marimo (Wait, no, that was wrong; he promised Nami-san he wouldn't call him that. Zoro, he needed to call him _Zoro_) like she asked. He told Nami-san he would go right away-and he felt like a bastard practically lying to her like that-but only a few steps out the door and his legs wimped out on him and went the other way. They could kick a boulder into pebbles, but wouldn't bring him to face one swordsman. _Un-fuckin'-believable _Sanji thought, the ends of his teeth pressing into his cigarette.

He set his knife back on the cutting board carefully, scooping the cut pieces and dropping the in the broth simmering beside him. They disappeared beneath the milky liquid as Sanji gave slow stirs, setting the spoon aside and covering the top with its lid. Stew sounded good for dinner tonight, there was more than enough ingredients to make it. It wouldn't be ready for hours though, and knowing Luffy, he couldn't leave it alone. He probably wouldn't see the Marimo (dammit, call him _Zoro_) until it was finished and time to eat. Sanji could already see the disappointment written across Nami-san's face, a rock forming in the pit of his stomach sinking his insides.

A bothersome voice was grating at his nerves, sounding deafening over the silence and giving his a headache. There was a vague familiarity behind it that gave the Sanji the feeling he heard it earlier, looking back; but if he did, it had been just an annoying buzz easily slapped down with thoughts of how happy Nami-san would be. Either way the stupid thought was a stubborn little bastard _now_, wriggling itself persistently to the front of his mind, everything else pushed carelessly aside. _What the _fuck _are you doing?! _It shrieked, sounding panicked, _You're trying to charm a _man_! You trying to charm _Zoro_! _Sanji couldn't deny that the voice was right.

Sanji didn't speak deeply with men. The closest he ever got was at the Baratie, and even then things never went further than a few insults and words of useless wisdom. Men simply weren't _meant _for talking in depth. Men were for sparring and asking whom the fuck left all the dishes everywhere. _But that isn't what you want, is it Nami-san? _Sanji thought, pulling away from the stove and taking a long drag.

He dropped the cigarette in the sink when he was finished, a thin line of smoke still trailing from the dying embers. _How the hell am I supposed to talk to him? _he asked, an opaque cloud of white leaving with his sigh. Nami-san said to get to know the Mari-_Zoro _better - that didn't sound too hard. Of course, Nami-san was the one who asked him in the first place, but there _must've _been a good reason. He probably misunderstood when she asked him to 'charm' Zoro earlier too, Nami-san most likely meant to get on Zoro's good side. It crossed his mind more than once to ask her, but that would be rude. _Maybe all the fighting annoys her; _he mused, stomach twisting into a terrible knot. It wouldn't be a surprise, they broke a lot of shit during their scuffles; but _dammit,_ he hoped that wasn't the reason – he made a jackass out of himself enough for one day.

_Or maybe it's a test, _Sanji considered; half joking, and a small smile tracing his lips. _Maybe Nami-san wants to see how devoted I am, and confess to me. _The smile widened, his eyes sliding gently shut to watch the scene play behind his lids. _"I'll admit, I was wrong about you, Sanji."_ Zoro would say, blushing in embarrassment over his mistake, _"You're an amazing guy; and I admire you a lot."_

Nami-swan would be there, admiration and awe shining in her gorgeous brown eyes. Sanji would smile and run to her, arms spread open to pull her close to him. _"Nami-swaan! I've done the impossible!" _

_"Oh, Sanji-kun!" _she would answer, _"You're so devoted!"_

The smell of warm broth reached him and Sanji opened his eyes, shifting the lid of the pot halfway off. Steam hugged his wrist and condensed on his palm. Sanji's smile pulled into a wide grin, picking up his knife and turning back to the cutting board. There were a few stalks of celery beside the remains of the carrots and he grabbed one, the slices more vigorous than they were before. _Don't worry Nami-swan, _he thought, _I wouldn't let you down._

Zoro didn't show up for dinner. Sanji didn't bother to go get him, no one did, his bowl left on the counter, covered up to stay warm. Nami-san sat beside him, and he could see her throw curious glances his way. Sanji gave a sheepish, apologetic shrug to her and nodded in the direction of the bowl he set aside, not quite meeting her eyes. She frowned at first, but after a second seemed to understand, giving a nod and a smile that shot the rock in his stomach straight to his heart. _You're so forgiving, Nami-swan._

He left Ussop and Chopper on dish duty; the lazy long nose hadn't done shit since they docked, and God forbid the rubber bastard touch them. Sanji was met by darkness as he stepped outside, a rapidly cooling bowl held in one hand. The deck was almost black now, dark silhouettes outlined by the lanterns in town and the last strip of pink on the horizon. The glow of the galley flooded out and Sanji caught a glimpse of green and the glint of metal beside the mast. "At least I don't have to hunt you down." He muttered, kicking the wood stopper to hold the door open. Sanji turned and followed along the light, his footsteps echoing loudly off the wood floor.

"Oi, Marim-" he started, stopping a few feet away; he stopped himself, a small noise of frustration leaving him "_Zoro,_ wake up."

The figure didn't stir, the gold of his earrings flickering in the illumination the galley provided. They swayed when a small breeze passed through them, the reflecting light shining across the Mari-_Zoro_'s face. He was asleep - Sanji figured he would be – back straight against the mast and his chin resting on his chest. Sanji took a few steps closer, for a brief moment wondering how the hell anyone could be comfortable in that position before nudging Zoro's ribs with the toe of his shoe.

"C'mon Zoro, time to get up." he hissed, giving a harsh jab to his side. The Marimo (_why _fuck_ is it so hard to say _Zoro_?_) didn't budge, his body shifting with the foot pushing at his side before going back to where it was. Sanji's teeth ground together, gripping the bowl a little tighter. "I'm not in the mood to put up with this shit right now, _get up._"

Zoro shifted away from him, brows furrowing in the poor light. He made a low noise in the back of his throat, one hand uncrossing from his chest to shoo him away. Sanji groaned, raising his leg to kick him, but paused in mid-swing. _Nami-san doesn't want us fighting, _he thought numbly, bringing his leg back down. The Marimo (_Zoro, call him Zoro) _stirred again, the gold earrings swinging, almost like they were mocking him. Sanji grit his teeth and crouched over him, his free hand grasping the pieces of metal and giving a tug.

Zoro jerked, another low sound leaving him. His face turned into the galley light, lids squeezed tightly shut and a thin frown tracing his lips. His eyes opened a second later, another low sound leaving him before he turned to look at him. The corner of his mouth was pulled back to a scowl, eyes hardened with familiar annoyance. "What the hell, you bastard?"

Sanji bit the tip of his tongue lightly before he said something he was sure would start a fight, letting go of Zoro's ear. "You missed dinner." He said, coming off more cutting than he meant it to be, pushing the lukewarm bowl into the Zoro's chest.

Zoro shifted into the galley's light fully, taking the bowl away from him. The glare didn't leave his features as he took the spoon and started eating, a long slurp sound making Sanji cringe. "Don't slurp," he sneered.

"It's my food, " Zoro said, not bothering to look at him, "I'll eat it how I want."

"Your way's _disgusting._"

"Wouldn't be if you weren't so picky," he replied, a small chuckle laced in his voice. Zoro sent a sideways glance his way, his expression softening into a smirk. "Doesn't make it taste any different anyways."

For a moment, Sanji couldn't think of anything to say. His mouth was hanging open and probably making him look like an idiot, and hastily shut it. Zoro's focus went back to is food, still making those noises that made his skin crawl. His legs were twitching to kick, but if he did it would start a fight; Nami-san wouldn't approve at all. He settled for sitting back against the mast beside him; and he could feel the Marimo's (_Zoro_) eyes pass over him. Sanji's hand went to his breast pocket, pulling out a smoke and sticking it between his lips, glancing to Zoro from the corner of his eye.

Zoro turned back to his bowl, bringing it to his lips and chugging with a much louder _shlooooorp. _Sanji's teeth nearly broke through the cigarette, clenching his lighter reflexively as he pulled it out. It took a few tries to get the damn thing to _light_, and those stupid _slurping_ sounds were blending in with every click. It finally sparked to life and Sanji brought it under the tip of his cigarette, sucking half of it down in one go and exhaling from his nose.

The harsh smoke burned his nostrils and he almost coughed, but the rest of him slowly relaxed into it and he didn't give a shit. He inhaled again, slower this time, letting it settle before blowing out just a sluggishly. Whatever the hell Zoro was doing to his food dulled in the haze. Sanji leaned back into _Merry's _mast, looking up at the sky through the string of grey his cig made. Clouds were spread across the black, covering everything but the moon.

It fell silent, except for Zoro and the clink of the spoon he was bothering to use now and the occasional _shlorp_. Sanji was on his third cigarette, rolling it lazily and tugging impatiently at his slacks. The calm the first one brought was beginning to wear off, the seconds he started counting feeling like they were moving slower. He was tempted to grab another cig, but this was his last pack until he could buy more in the morning. _And if someone doesn't _say_ something right now I'm gonna fuckin' _scream_; _he thought through grit teeth. Zoro gave another low slurp, almost like he was answering. Sanji's cigarette was only a butt now and he pulled it away from his lips, hesitantly clearing his throat as he exhaled.

"So," he started, and then couldn't think of anything to say after it. He took the chance to look over to Zoro, the dead butt held loosely between his index and middle fingers. Zoro was still eating; it didn't look like he had even faltered at all.

_Well fuck, _Sanji thought, _what the hell do I say now? _He was half hoping Zoro would take over, just to break the silence, but maybe that was too much to ask. _Come _on_,_ _you idiot. Just start one friggin' civil conversation; it shouldn't be too hard. Just say _some_thing…_

"How was your day?" he asked, turning to look at Zoro fully and flashing his best smile. There was a weird pitch in his voice that made him sound like an idiot; it reminded him of Luffy for a brief moment. His lips curved awkwardly, pushed a little too tightly together into some foreign expression he didn't have a name for.

Zoro's spoon paused short of his open mouth, holding it in place for a moment before setting it back in the bowl. He set it down on the deck in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes. The dull galley light made him look darker, the quizzical arch of his brow coming off to be more like threatening suspicion. "Alright, what do you want?"

Sanji blinked, "What?"

"You sound like you want something," he replied, the questioning gaze deepening into irritation, "Out with it already."

"I don't want anything." Sanji answered, almost mechanically.

"Then why the hell are you over here?" Zoro asked, reaching up the scratch his temple tiredly, "It's annoying."

"I'm not asking for anything from you; you stupid Marimo!" he snapped, sitting up further to loom over him, his fingers digging into the wood beneath his feet. Zoro blinked up at him – not quite surprised, but close to it - and Sanji felt like an idiot all over again. _Shit, _he thought, _I'm sorry Nami-san; forgive me._

Zoro stood up, picking up the bowl, and headed towards the galley. The glow made him only a silhouette now, a long black shadow lumbering after him. "Whatever, Love Cook," he yawned, stretching an arm behind his head, "Be weird all you want, I'm going to bed."

The Marimo (no, _Zoro_) turned right when he crossed the galley's threshold, the shadow on the floor vanishing with his absence. Sanji stayed on the floor, staring at the open galley door dumbly for a moment. The dead cigarette butt fell from his fingers, landing soundlessly by his knee. When the heaving thud of Zoro's boots faded away he stood, eyes still fixed on the open door. Sanji felt the dull pulse of an oncoming headache, and gripped his hair with a light tug.

"What the fuck_,_" he growled, "What the _fuck? _I'm nice to that idiot and I get _this _shit? That stupid, thick headed, lazy-"

He turned away from the door, another frustrated cry leaving him as he swung his foot into _Merry's _mast. The sole of his shoe connected and small prickles ran up his leg, the wood giving with a loud _crack._ When he brought his leg back down again, the place his foot hit was caved in, the wooden planks splintered and cracked and pushed back to make a large, shoe shaped hole. Ussop would throw a fit in the morning (or maybe tonight if he was on watch) but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Sanji sighed, turning towards the galley, picking up the discarded butt as an afterthought. Nami-san would probably be angry when she saw the damage, and she wouldn't be pleased when she found out why he did it. _I'll have to apologize to her in the morning, _he mused, kicking away the stopper and letting the door swing shut behind him.

Nami-san was the first one up before breakfast, and she threw a tired glare his way as she burst through the door (and still looked as lovely as ever). Sanji turned away from the pan, a nervous smile tracing his lips. Her frown didn't waver, sitting down so that she was across from him, folding her arms over her chest. "You better pay for that hole you made in the mast, Sanji-kun."

"I will, Nami-san. Sorry about that." he sighed; it crossed his mind briefly to tell her it was the Mari-_Zoro's_ fault, but that probably wouldn't come off as being 'friendly' like she said to be. He smiled sheepishly to her, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his head and turning back to the stove. The fried eggs smiled back at him, like they were telling him how good of a day it would be. Sanji dug the spatula under them carefully and tossed them carefully on the plate beside him.

Nami-san's and Robin-chan's omelets were set beside it, heart-shaped mushrooms lined along the sides. He didn't make one for Zoro; he didn't notice the first time, so why would that be different now? Sanji picked up the omelet closest to him, turning back to Nami-san, a wide smile spread across his face. "Your breakfast is ready, Nami-swan."

The galley was bustling a few moments later; Sanji's knuckles were turning white from clutching the fork. Ussop was on his left to him, going between talking to Chopper and yelling his fucking _ear_ off about _Merry's _mast. To his right was Luffy; making noises that made his stomach churn and every once in a while remnants of _something_ would land on his plate. Chopper was in front of him, hanging onto Ussop's every word. At least he was quiet. Sitting by Zoro was starting to look nice now.

"-you _know _how hard it's going to be to repair that Sanji?!"

"I don't really _give_ a shit!" he snapped, stabbing his fork harshly into a slice of sausage, "Just do whatever the fuck it is you need to do – and oil the _fuckin' _hinges while you're at it!"

Ussop recoiled, pushing away from him until he almost ran into Robin-chan, holding his hands in front of him defensively. "Geez, sorry; I was just saying, that's all," he mumbled, giving him one last nervous glance before turning back to Chopper.

Sanji looked back to his plate, closing his eyes and counting to five before opening them again. A pile of what Sanji guessed used to be hash landed in the middle of his plate, a hand stretching across a moment later and grabbing a handful of it. Sanji set his fork down, a bit harder than he needed, rubbing at his temples. His food was gone by the time he looked back, picking up a cup of coffee and wishing he had more cigarettes.

"Oi, Zoro, you're on dish duty." He was calling a few minutes later. He stood in front of the sink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and towels in hand. Zoro looked up at him, giving a quick nod before picking up the plates and glasses still on the table. Most of them weren't too dirty; Luffy usually licked them clean – something that never failed to completely disgust him.

Zoro set the plates beside him and took his place on the other side of the sink. Sanji finished the first plate, shaking the water off before handing it to him. Zoro took it with a small grunt, running the dry towel over the surface and setting it on the other side of the sink.

"So," Sanji said, finishing off a glass and looking up to hand it to him. Zoro's eyes flashed over him expectantly, taking the glass from him. Sanji's voice died on his tongue and he couldn't remember what the hell he was going to say. _Crap, what do I do? _Zoro faced him fully, his brows furrowed impatiently. _All right, think. Nami-san said to get to know him better. Just _think_… _The first thing that came to him was the advice Nami-san gave him.

"What's you favorite color?" Sanji blurted.

He sounded stupid; he _knew _he sounded stupid. Out of everything he could have said, he asked about fucking _colors._ Zoro blinked at him, the frown leaving his features and eyes widening into something more perplexed. He set the glass he finished drying on the counter beside the plate, searching his face and then meeting his eyes once more. "You sick or something?"

Sanji's brows furrowed, "I'm not sick." He hissed, coming out a bit more defensive than he wanted it to.

"You should go see Chopper, Love Cook," Zoro continued jadedly, scratching behind his ear, "Can't cook if you're sick."

"I just said I'm not freakin' sick." Sanji dunked another plate into the water, sloshing it around the metal sides and soaking his arms. He shoved it towards Zoro, not bothering to look up at him. The Marimo (dammit, _Zoro_) was quiet again, taking the plate from him without so much as a grunt. Sanji took the chance to glimpse at him from the corner of his eye. There wasn't a trace of anger in his features; he looked bored if anything. The tense hush was unbearable, and after a pause, Sanji asked, "Is it green?"

Zoro shot a dark scowl his way. "Bastard." He growled.

The Mari-_Zoro_ was out the door when the second the dishes were finished, and Sanji was fumbling in his breast pocket for a cigarette. His head was pounding by the time he got the damn pack out, and the stupid flap wouldn't open. He could hear them shifting inside the box, like the bastards were laughing at him. _I went too long without one of these, _Sanji thought, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

There was only one cigarette when he got the damn flap open, rolling lazily against the white walls. Sanji blinked, staring dumbly into the box for a moment before pulling the smoke out slowly. "What the hell?" he murmured, eyeing the bare inside of his pack, "I had more than this."

His hand clenched around the box, the flimsy cardboard bending under his grip. He nearly bit the tip of his cigarette off when he stuck it between his lips, grabbing his lighter and flicking it to life. He tossed the empty pack in the trashcan beside him, taking slow drags through the cigarette caught between his still clenched teeth. _Down to my last cig, _he mused bitterly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks, _That's just _perfect_._

Sanji's left hand wrapped around the beli Nami-san gave him when they first docked; trying to remember how much was still left. There were five one hundred bills when he pulled them out and counted. Two would probably be enough for Nami-san to repair the hole in _Merry's_ mast and cigarettes were only a few beli a pack. _This is plenty,_ he thought, a small smile tracing his lips.

The town market was bustling and crowded when he reached it, cursing steadily under his breath as he shoved his way through the traffic. People were gathered around the front counters of stores and made it nearly impossible to see what the hell they were selling and no one fucking _moved_ when he tried to take a look, his legs were twitching to kick something by the time he was out of the main cluster. The crowds thinned as he reached the far end of the markets, they were almost nonexistent when he came to the outer ring. There were only of handful of shops now, most of them selling trinkets no one would ever use and shouting as he walked by.

One with a burly man behind the counter had packs of cigarettes set across it and he leapt to it. The man smile to him as he approached and he smiled back, eyes never leaving the white boxes in front of him. The name _Malbro_ was printed boldly across the cover in bold, black letters.

Sanji barely noticed the startled jump the man behind the wood table gave when he picked up the stack and tossed it in front of him. "I'd like to purchase these," he said, a bit more biting than he wanted.

The man blinked down at the cigarette boxes, then up at him. "Rough day, sir?"

"You have no idea."

The stout man gave a weak smile, pulling out a paper bag and tossing the packs inside. "Your total's gonna be…" the man looked back into the bag, Sanji saw his lips move as he counted quietly, "Eighty-three beli. Will that be all for you?"

Sanji nodded, setting the hundred beli down and grabbing the bag. He took the change the man gave him back with a mumbled 'thank you,' trekking to a bench a few houses away and pulling out a box. He flipped it open easily, pulling out the first fresh cig and setting it between his lips. His lighter flickered it to life and Sanji inhaled, a small sigh of relief escaping him as smoke filled his lungs.

Sanji leaned back against the bench, dazedly watching as a flock of birds flew overhead. A cloud of white formed with his exhales, rising and fading into the air. The corners of Sanji's lips twitched, pulling out the cigarette and twirling it between his fingers. _I should head back soon, _he mused, brought the smoke to his mouth and took another slow drag.

The main traffic wasn't as crowded when Sanji looked back up again, flicking the smoldering butt into the dirt road. He stood slowly, stretching his arms over his head and turning back to pick up his purchase. Sanji took one last glance at the market, turning to leave when the building across from him caught his eye.

It was a simple place, only two stories tall and painted dull beige. A sign hung above the door, the picture of a foaming mug of ale swinging in the breeze. The door was propped wide open, an older man beside it sweeping off the front step.

Sanji paused, facing the building fully and looking it over once more. _A tavern, _he thought dully, watching as the man shook off his broom and vanished inside. _I wonder why the Marim-Zoro hasn't gone here yet. _A small, laughing voice suggested that Zoro never _found _it, a wide smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. _Maybe I'll show him where it is when I get back._

His train of thought stopped for a moment, scanning over the last one and starting up again. Sanji could feel gears churning, giving the tavern one last glance over his shoulder and turning back towards the _Going Merry_.

* * *

Author's Note: I am _so _sorry that this took so long! Normally I would give you a reason for the wait, but they would just be excuses. Forgive me. T-T I hope I've redeemed myself with this chapter. I can't really say much about it though; there are a few places that seem…off. I'll probably revise it, though. I don't know much about cigarettes (not a smoker), or if there's a specific brand Sanji buys, so for now it's just going to be Malbro unless someone knows a better brand. Poor Sanji. He tries, he really does. Though I think that he's on his last nerve...

Thanks for all the support. I get warm fuzzy feelings inside of me when I read them. Except for you, The Mutterer. I don't know what your problem is, but you make me laugh. ;D

With Love,

BecauseIWasBored


	7. It’s 5 o’clock Somewhere

Chapter 7: It's 5 o'clock Somewhere

Zoro felt movement just outside his vision, slowing his weights enough to glance from the corner of his eye. The Love Cook was stepping over the rail on to _Merry_; a paper bag too small to be groceries tucked under one arm and a cigarette between his lips. He paused to stretch his free arm and rolled it small circles, cocking his head lazily to his shoulder. For a second Zoro was sure that the Crap-Cook's eyes were on him – like he was trying to burn holes into his back – and he turned to see the bastard over his shoulder better. The Cook was walking as soon as his head moved, the blonde hair brushing across his face a bit too quickly and hiding his expression from view before he flipped open the hatch and stepped below deck.

The rhythm of Zoro's lifts slowed to nearly a stop, fixed where the Cook used to be longer than he should have. He tore his eyes away sharply with a low growl, his repetitions starting much faster than before. "Damn Cook." He muttered through grit teeth.

The bastard was around a lot lately, ever since the damn Toad it seemed like he was everywhere. Zoro didn't really know what to make of it. It wasn't a surprise when the asshole started to tease, the Love Cook never left anything alone for less than two days. Though it didn't stop him from punching the asshole in his stupid, smug face. The ends of Zoro's lips twitched into a smirk thinking of the dark swell under the Cook's left eye.

After that Crap-Cook started acting weird, though. It was nothing obvious – the Dartboard Brow yelled enough as it was – Zoro doubted the crew noticed. Hell, he didn't think much of it until he spent nearly an hour tossing thoughts of the damn Cook back and forth in his head and couldn't recall anything actually _causing_ the asshole to snap.

In between his stupid fits he wasn't as noisy, but he made weird faces that Zoro couldn't tell if they were from being sore or if there was something in his eye; and every once in awhile the stupid bastard would come to him with questions he expected from Luffy or maybe a five year old. _Maybe he's out of cigarettes,_ he mused. It would make sense, wasn't the stupid Cook running low?

_But I swear if he calls me 'Zo-chaaan' again, he's getting _more_ than a bruise, _he thought wryly; chuckling softly under his breath. A familiar thud of shoes against wood sounded loud on the empty deck, his train of thought breaking a faltering mid-swing. He lowered his weights slowly until they barely touched the planks, not letting go as he turned around. One of the Cook's feet hung outside the opening, a hand pressed on the hatch door as he pulled himself up. Love Cook's other hand joined his foot on the floor, raising himself halfway out of the hatch and onto one knee before finally looking up.

The Cook's eyes wandered for a moment and trailed up to catch Zoro's, his shoulders tensing as if the idiot were surprised that he was still there. Zoro's brows furrowed and his lips tugged into a thin scowl, the hand still holding the metal handle loosening as he turned to the Cook expectantly. Love Cook stayed where he was for a minute, a smoke still in his mouth, dropping his gaze with a roll of his shoulders and pulling himself to his feet.

Zoro shrugged, lifting the disks on the end of the rod off the floor and began to lift once more. He heard the Cook's stupid dress shoes between the sound of metal brushing against itself, steering to his left towards _Merry's_ rail and falling silent.

It stayed that way for sometime, Zoro didn't bother counting out how long. The Cook didn't make a sound, not even flicking his lighter for another cigarette. Zoro kept his back to him, watching the disks shift against each other lazily. After awhile his hands started to slip on the metal and he set them down for a moment to pick up the rag by his feet. He caught a glimpse of the Love Cook as he bent over, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks and toeing at the wood jadedly, staring down at him.

Zoro's shoulders stiffened a little, his eyes widening in surprise then narrowing with annoyance. He turned away, gripping the rag tightly and straightening his back with a clumsy jerk. It probably made him look nervous. _Like a guy who gets mistaken for a whore, _he thought bitterly, a soft snarl rumbling in his chest, running the old towel between his hands and quickly over his face, dropping it carelessly to the floor.

The damn Cook still had his eyes on him when he started raising the weights again, Zoro could feel them bearing into his back. His swings were slower now, moving awkwardly with every movement. Dartboard Brow didn't budge, the sound of his dress shoes scrapping against the floorboards mixing with the ungainly clank of metal and grating in Zoro's ears. A low, girthed grumble reverberated from the base of his throat, stopping the lifts to look at the bastard. "Need something?" he growled.

Crap-Cook was twirling a half-dead cigarette between his fingers, his mouth pulled into a bored grimace but his uncovered eye was stuck somewhere between confusion and annoyance. Zoro set his weights aside and faced him fully, resting a hand on his hip and arching an eyebrow expectantly. The Love Cook's gaze lingered for a second before he tossed the cigarette over the rail into the harbor, a weird smile stretching his lips until all his gums were showing. _He looks like he has a stick up his ass, _Zoro thought.

"Hey Ma-_Zoro_," the Cook started; his voice was laced with a high pitch and the smile twitched almost painfully, scanning the deck and then looking back him. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Zoro replied skeptically, blinking slowly as the cook and grasping the handle in both hands once more.

"Good, that's good."

Zoro grunted quietly, the dull _clank_ of metal rubbing against itself steadily rising as his swings picked up speed. He followed their rhythm, the cook forgotten, tightening his grip on the pole as he moved. The skies were clear today, a light breeze brushing over him and cooling sweat-slicked skin. There was warmth running over his shoulders and halfway down his back, Zoro guessed it was passed noon now – probably why the cook was the first one back.

Lackadaisically, he glanced over his shoulder where the Cook was. The stupid bastard hadn't stirred, save for the hand reaching into his breast pocket. His eye trailed after the motion of his arms, shifting endlessly in a slow, unhurried manner that made Zoro's skin crawl. He almost dropped his weights when his shoulders tensed under the Love Cook's gaze, the disks sliding against each other as he readjusted his grip, hissing a 'shit' through his teeth. From the corner of his eye he felt the Love Cook watching him, and made a low noise. He turned back to the Cook a bit too fast and cracked his neck, letting the weights fall to the floor with a _crash_. "What now, Cook?" he snapped.

The Love Cook's lazy stare searched him, holding a fresh cigarette between his front teeth. He pulled it away and tapped the ash off the burning end with his pointer finger. "You up for a drink?"  
Zoro blinked, "Huh?"

Love Cook had his back to him again, cigarette back in his lips and taking a slow drag. "There's a tavern just past the market," he said, waving a hand in the village's general direction. "We haven't been to one in awhile, and it's not like there's anything else to do…" the Cook let his voice trail, a cloud of white forming around his head. He sighed softly, barely heard over the wind as he turned to face him, the swirled brow arched in question. "So how 'bout it?" he asked, "Up for a few pints?"

"Oh," Zoro murmured dumbly, "Yeah, sure. Just let me get my shirt."

His hands were sweaty again, wiping them off on the front of his pants carelessly and walking towards the mast. His shirt lay at the base of it in a crumpled heap of white fabric and unfolded stiffly when he picked it up. Zoro slipped it over his head easily, tucking the hem under his haramaki. There was more moisture than he expected, the white cotton clinging to his shoulders and lower back, rubbing at his skin and making him itch. Zoro shifted, annoyed, rolling his shoulders as he turned to the Cook. "Alright, let's go."

The Love Cook flicked the butt of his cigarette over the rail, eyebrow rising lazily. "What about your weights?"

Zoro's eyes barely glanced to the metal disks spread across the deck, giving a shrug. "I'll finish up when I get back. Let's go already Cook."

The market was bustling and alive as they wandered the streets, it was almost unrecognizable compared to the last time he was there. Nearly every stand had a line in front of wooden counters, handing coins and beli to the vendors and moving on with their days. The roads were crowded, more than once Zoro lost sight of the Crap-Cook pushing his way through villagers.

"Oi, Mari-Zoro," the Cook called, "It's just ahead."

Zoro looked up and saw the sign swinging lightly against the building, a chipped image of a foaming mug painted on the side. The Cook stepped through the door and Zoro trailed after him, letting it swing shut.

There was hardly anyone, most of the bar stools empty except for a chubby man whose feet barely touched the ground. There was a man beside him on the other side of the counter, chuckling lightly as he polished a glass. To their right in the center of the room was an old billiards table, the green felt worn away to make strange patterns across its surface. Another man was leaning over it, the whittled tip of a pool stick aimed at the little white ball before he knocked a red one into the corner pocket. Two older women sat at one of the small tables pressed into the back wall, smiling and nodding while they spoke. As Zoro watched them they burst into a fit of high, childish laughter that didn't suite them at all.

Zoro took a seat at the stool closest to the door. The Love Cook sat beside him a bar stool over, taking the cigarette from his mouth and crushing it into the ashtray. Smoke filled Zoro's nostrils and made him cringe, pushing the tray to the Cook's side with the tip of his finger. The bartender looked up at him, nodding briskly and turning to the man on the barstool, saying something to him before walking over to them.

"Well, afternoon boys," the bartender said, flashing a light smile. "Don't recall ev'r seein' ya 'round 'ere b'fore."

"We're travelers," the Cook replied, already reaching for another cigarette. _Damn chain smoker,_ Zoro thought.

"Thought so," the man answered lightly, rubbing his hands with the rag he'd used for the glass, "We don't git many tr'vlers."

The bartender was much bigger up close, towering over them as he approached. He wasn't fat, but he was big; thick and broad limbs on a burly torso that wasn't quite muscle. His hair was like straw, clumped together in a thick beard that reached his collarbone in peppered strands of black and grey. The rest was tied back in a ponytail, boasting a thick scar that ran across his temple and disappeared into his hairline. His clothes hugged his figure tightly, almost straining to cover everything, the stained apron he wore hanging loosely around his neck. He flashed a wide smile, and Zoro could see his teeth were slightly yellowed.

" 'M Francis," he said, his voice much softer than he looked, brushing a hand over his stained front and holding it out to him.

"Zoro," he answered, hesitating for a moment before taking his hand. Francis shook it firmly for a second and his smile widened, turning and holding it out to the Love Cook.

"Sanji." The Cook muttered through his cigarette, taking his hand and shaking it formally.

Francis chuckled kindly again, his face brightening in the taverns dim light. "Well nice ta' meet'cha both, then."

Zoro didn't return the smile, giving a curt nod and resting his arms on the counter. "Can I get some ale?" he asked.

Francis' smile dropped into something more bewildered. "Oh, we don't s'rve booze 'till 'bout five."

The answer didn't register for a second, and he sat a little straighter, his mouth falling open a little and taking a moment to find his voice. "What?"

"S'rry, kid. It's p'licy." Francis shrugged, scratching lightly at his temple.

"That better be a joke."

Francis shook his head, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It ain't. The mayor made that rule few months back. Used ta have a lotta drunks lyin' all ov'r the place durin' the day. Looked real bad in front of childr'n, ya know?" Francis tossed the rag on the counter, thick lips tightening into almost a grimace. "Hell, I used ta 'ave this one fuckwit in 'ere all the time - and he was fuckin' _nasty_."

"Damn, that sucks," The Love Cook, muttered, holding his lighter to the cigarette in his teeth.

Francis nodded, a small grin tracing his mouth once more. "Yeah, but mayor cleaned it up real good. 'Fraid I can't git'cha booze righ' now, though."

Zoro turned away sharply, resting his chin on the palm of his hand with a low groan. The older women held a book between them now, one pointing out something on the pages as she spoke, the other smiling and nodding. There was an aged grandfather clock beside the bar Zoro hadn't noticed before, the hands showing it was three now. The Love Cook usually got dinner started around five thirty; if he ate fast enough he could come back at six. The Sea Witch would probably bitch at him if he came back late though. Damn woman woke to anything louder than pin drop.

"Oh, ya can always come back after five." Francis cut in, "We don't git no tr'vlers 'ere often; nice ta see a new face, ya know?"

Francis chuckled, more to himself than to them, resting his arms on the counter and bending more to their level. "Look, ya seem like nice boys. A few friends of mine come 'ere all the time," he said, "Ya might like 'em; they're good guys. I'm open 'till ten, how 'bout ya just come back later?"

"We'll think about it," the Love Cook cut in before Zoro could say anything, already standing up. "Come on, Zoro."

Zoro go to his feet and followed after him, waving casually to Francis as an afterthought. It was unexpectedly bright as he stepped the door and he shielded his eyes away from it, blinking dully until he didn't see spots anymore. When he looked back up the Cook was already a few houses down the road, gradually dwindling into the crowds. Zoro hurried after him, squeezing through the passerby's thoughtlessly before he was at the Cook's side once more.

"Well that was bullshit," he scowled, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets harshly. He heard the Love Cook make a noise and from the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of a nod. "What the hell kind of bar doesn't serve booze?"

"Apparently _that_ one, Mari-_Zoro_." The Love Cook said, voice faltering at the end and clearing his throat. Zoro's brow furrowed, turning to the Cook. He was fiddling with his tie, a cigarette still hanging slack at the corner of his mouth. It flailed between his teeth as he walked and for a moment Zoro though that the end was going to fall. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Love Cook looked up to him, the cigarette sagging closer to his chin and his eye widening with surprise. "Doing what?"

"The thing where you say my name weird." he grumbled, "It sounds retarded."

The Crap-Cook's lips pulled back into a sneer, teeth clenching tightly around his cigarette. "Well excuse _me_, asshole," he snapped, the hand still around his tie tightening into a fist. "_Some _people think it's _nice_ for other people to use their names."

"Not when you say it funny like that." Zoro retorted, glancing to the villagers passing by. "It's not like I ever really cared what you called me anyways;" he added.

It wasn't a lie – he couldn't bring himself to really mind the stupid name 'Marimo' the damn Cook was so fond of after the first three days.

The Love Cook was looking at him strange when he looked back, the curl of his eyebrow almost touching his hairline. The cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth again and he quickly fixed it, turning away from him. The smoke died out after a minute and the Love Cook tossed it aside, shoving his hands into his slacks and walking a little faster. "We better get back – I have to get lunch started, so hurry up Marimo."

A smirk traced the corners of Zoro's lips and quickly caught up with him.

Luffy was sitting on the ram head when he stepped back on deck, and the second his boots touched the floorboards he turned to look at them, a broad smile spreading across his face and pointing to the water. "Hey Zoro! Hi Sanji! There's a bunch of weird fish down there!"

"That's nice." Zoro grumbled, scratching at his ear with a yawn. He heard the Cook's footsteps drift away from him; the galley's hinges squeaking as he opened the door. He turned away from Luffy, raising an arm over his head and rolling it in a small circle. His weights still lay beneath the mast, and he started for them.

"Think we can eat them?"

"Ask the Cook."

"Do they taste good?"

"I just said ask the Cook." He growled, lifting the weights easily. He caught a glimpse of Luffy leaving _Merry's_ figurehead and he groaned under his breath, the rhythm of his lifts quickly picking up speed. Luffy didn't seem to mind, and Zoro could see him drift further into his vision, a slight skip in his walk and a wide smile stretched across his face. "Wanna play, Zoro?"

"No."

"Aw, c'mon Zoro! Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"_No_."

"Ehhhh," Luffy whined, it was childish and high pitched and Zoro had to force himself not to cringe away from it. "Why not?"

Zoro's lifts slowed and he lowered his weights gently to glance at Luffy over his shoulder. "I'm busy, Luffy."

Luffy's lower lip puckered into a pout, his brows furrowing tightly together but not quite looking angry. Zoro thought he looked ten rather than seventeen and his mouth twitched into a smile despite himself. Luffy's eyes trailed to his weights before meeting his eyes again, the ample smile returning. "After dinner, then?" he asked.

Zoro cut a glance to the village behind him. He couldn't see the tavern from the ship but he stared a moment longer, trying to recall the last time he'd sat down with some ale and really badly wanting one. When he looked back Luffy was staring up at him expectantly, hands clasped together like he was going to beg.

"Sorry, Luffy," he sighed, "I'm going to a tavern right after dinner."

Luffy's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Bleh," he griped, sticking out his tongue, "But Zoro, those places are icky."

"And I want a drink," Zoro replied, turning back to his weights and picking them up off the floor.

"You're no fun." He whined, crossing arms stubbornly over his chest. Zoro rolled his eyes lightly, slowing his rhythm enough to look at him.

"Look, " he started, "It's been awhile since I had a drink, I can play with you tomorrow, okay?"

A smiled traced Luffy's lips and he nodded eagerly up at him. "Okay, Zoro."

"Alright," he sighed, his lifts picking up speed again, "Why don't you go see what the Cook's doing? He might be getting dinner ready."

Luffy's eyes brightened and he vaulted for the galley door, one arm stretching across the deck to grab the doorframe. His grin widened when he looked back to him, the corners of his mouth pulled to his ears. "You're the best, Zoro!"

Then he was gone and Zoro felt the air move beside him, nearly losing his balance. The hinges on the galley door creaked again and a loud crash followed, the deck falling silent for a second before the Cook screamed. A light smirk traced Zoro's lips and he began to raise the metal disks once more.

The sun was barely touching the horizon when the Cook called them in for dinner; and a quarter of it was hidden behind the ocean by the time they finished eating. Zoro was outside before the damn Crap-Cook could put him on dish duty, stuffing his hands deep into his trouser pockets and walking down to the docks. The streets were almost empty, the glow of the lanterns illuminating the dirt roads with the rapidly withdrawing sun. House windows were filled with yellow light, black silhouettes of villagers occasionally passing over them. Zoro yawned, rolling his shoulders, and started off again.

"Oi, Marimo!" the Cook called out to him, and he paused mid-step, his fingers clenching at the inside of his pants. He twisted slowly on his heel and saw the damn Cook coming down the steps to meet him, gritting his teeth tightly. "What now, Cook?" he snarled.

The Love Cook stopped as he stepped on the dock, raising a hand to push a few strands of blonde hair behind his ear. With the sun behind him he was almost a shadow, expression hidden from view. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, making a noise that sounded like a chuckle.

Zoro arched a brow skeptically, glancing over him quickly before he started towards town with a shrug. The sun only reached the end of the village now; the forest and minor mountain peaks behind it shaded black and blue.

"Sure, Love Cook. Let's go."

* * *

Author's Note: Yes! I finally updated. God, I'm sorry about the wait. I had Star Testing and track meets and I had almost no time to actually sit down and write. But now track is off-season and I never have to take another Star Test for the rest of my life so I'll have plenty of time. ;) I already have the next few chapters figured out, so I should be able to get those done really fast. And yes, I know the reasoning behind the alcohol limits is a little weak, I'd be happy if you ignored it. Believe it or not, there actually are bars that are like that. Hell, I heard in Utah you couldn't buy alcohol on Sundays or holy days. For those of you who had trouble with Francis' dialogue: Sorry about that – its just part of his character. ^^'

Hopefully I'll be a bit faster in the future, but thanks for all the feedback. You really make my day. For those of you who want to know, this can also be found on LiveJournal.

Love You All,

BecauseIWasBored


	8. The Welcome Wagon

Chapter 8: The Welcome Wagon

The was only a strip of red hanging above the ocean by the time they were a block away from the tavern, the rest of the sky eaten away by dark blues and black as the sun sank away and made the water look long and purple. Sanji watched it for a moment; hands tucked into his pockets and squinted down the darkening road. The lanterns strung between the buildings shined brightly, yellowed light illuminating the road and mixing with the glow of windows as they swung lazily through the chilled night air. Sanji shivered with a quiet sight, watching his breath form a transparent cloud before he looked away.

The Marimo was a few steps ahead of him, cradling the back of his neck and staring at the sky jadedly. Sanji sped up until he walking beside him, catching a glimpse of his moss green hair glinting under the lanterns. He hadn't said much since they left the _Merry_, but that was fine. Sanji couldn't think of anything to say, and anytime he tried to talk to the Marimo things usually ended in a fight anyways. He cut a glance to the Marimo again, blowing a few stray hairs off his nose. Zoro's hands were still behind his head, fingers drumming impatiently at his knuckles. His boots dragged along the road, clouds of dirt rising around his feet. He was wearing the same shirt he wore for training, Sanji noted distastefully, noticeably wet along his lower back and stiff wrinkles sticking to his skin.

Sanji sniffed indignantly, turning back to the vacant street ahead of him. The tavern was only a house away now, the sign swinging sluggishly above it and sounding almost eerily loud when the hinges creaked. A thin stream of light trailed through the crack at the bottom of the door, a chorus of happy chatter and the faint hum of music reaching his ears, sounding thunderous and beckoning in the empty streets. Zoro darted and cleared the space to the tavern's front step, setting a hand on the wood before turning to look at him. "Coming, Cook?"

"Yeah, let's go Marimo," Sanji replied, jogging the last few steps. The Marimo pushed the door open, keeping his hand where it was and stepped inside. Sanji followed him, blinking the spots out of his eyes as the light flooded over him, clumsily grabbing at the edge of the door and letting himself inside.

Villagers were scattered across the room, the music and laughter boastful and almost deafening with the thick smell of cigarettes hanging heavily in the air. It wasn't as crowded as Sanji expected it to be, scanning the half empty seats at the bar lazily. Most of the tables along the walls were occupied, glasses scattered across their surfaces while locals gathered in the seats and spoke among themselves. Two pudgy men were playing at the worn pool table, onlookers standing close by with drinks in hand and occasionally erupting in a chorus of cheers. In the far back a man in a dirty wife beater stood in the corner, a violin propped under his chin as he played a cheery tune.

There weren't any women though, Sanji noted with a prick of disappointment. Then again Sanji didn't think women would _want _to be in a place like this. _Guess I'm stuck with the Marimo,_ he thought with a low, irritated sigh.

Sanji's eyes came back to the bar, taking a moment to observe as men threw their heads back into shots of grog (_A true hicks' drink,_ he thought with a small grimace) and erupted into loud, drunken laughter. He caught sight of Francis, leaning over his broad arms and talking to two customers sitting across from him, a wide grin spread across his face. After a moment Francis glanced to the doorways and his gaze fell on them, his smile widening as far as his mouth would let him.

"_There_ ya are boys!" he bellowed joyfully, "Been wonderin' 'bout ya." He stood straighter, raising a hand to beckon them. "Git ov'r 'ere, lemme intr'duce ya!"

The Marimo moved first, stretching his arms above his head with an animalistic yawn. Sanji reached into his pocket and set a cigarette between his teeth, reaching for his lighter as he made his way to the bar.

Two men sitting across from Francis grinned casually up at them, shifting over a seat to make room. There was a musty air about them, like old sweat mixed with dirt. It made Sanji's nose itch and quickly inhaled to cover up a cringe. They didn't seem to notice and Sanji smiled as politely as he could manage, taking a slow drag as he sat down.

Francis's grin widened and rubbed his hands together and wiped them off on his shirt. "Barnabas, Holt, like ya ta' meet Sanji and Z'ro," he said, thumbing in Sanji's and the Marimo's direction. He paused a moment to scratch his nose and met Sanji's eyes before he nodded his head to the left. "This 'ere's Barnabas."

Sanji turned and the man named Barnabas gave an entertained smirk down at him, one burly hand held out in greeting while the other scratched at his goatee lazily. "Pleasure to meet ya."

"Likewise," Sanji replied, taking the hand Barnabas offered to him. He was a giant of a man; his thick fingers wrapped around Sanji's wrist in an iron grip and still had room to overlap a little with his whole _hand_ fit in his calloused palm. Barnabas gave a quick shake that nearly pulled Sanji off the stool and let go a second later, chuckling lightly as he turned back to his drink. There was a roar of laughter behind him that made Sanji scowl as he pulled his hand back, brushing the wrinkles out of the front of his coat and sitting a little straighter.

Francis gave another hearty laugh when he looked back up, his chest and belly rocking with the motion like gelatin. "Yeah," he chortled, an almost smug grin tracing his wide mouth. "Barnabas don't know his own str'ngth s'metimes."

He thumbed in the direction of the other man, "Righ' there's Holt."

Holt smiled over the rim of his mug waving casually. Sanji caught a glimpse of the Marimo's mouth twitching, but couldn't tell if it was a smile or a frown.

"Nice to meet you," Holt muttered, setting his glass down and wiping his mouth on his arm, "Francis mentioned you earlier – said you were travelers."

"Yeah," the Marimo answered, "We got here a few days ago."

"That's nice," Holt, murmured with a nod, pulling a few strands of red hair out of his eyes, "Haven't had any trouble, I hope."

The Marimo stiffened slightly; shoulders arched enough to barely be visible. "Not really, wish we found this place earlier, though."

"R'minds me," Francis cut in, "Can I git ya boys anythin'?"

"A pints' good." Zoro shrugged.

Francis nodded with a grin and turned to Sanji expectantly. Sanji blinked up at him, for a moment wondering what the hell he wanted before it finally sank in. "I'll have the same," he sighed.

Sanji watched Francis plod across the bar until he had to turn his head to see him. Barnabas caught his gaze and his shoulders tensed visibly before he smiled feebly down at him. Sanji gave a small smirk, letting his cigarette fall between his fingers and exhaling slowly. He reminded him of Patty, looking at him now. Same brawny body and tan skin anyways. Barnabas was a brunette, his hair cut short enough to see his scalp. The rest of him was mostly made of harsh angles rather than chubby curves, thick and heavy with muscle except for a slight beer gut. He looked older too, late thirties if Sanji had to guess.

"You're a swordsman?" the Marimo was asking. Sanji turned to him, setting his smoke back between his lips. Zoro had his back to him, looking down at the sword hanging from Holt's hip.

"Oh," Holt murmured, grasping the handle carelessly, "This old thing? No, it's just a gift from my friend, Tao." He brought a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a weak, almost embarrassed smile tracing the corners of his mouth. "I'm just a merchant."

"Tao's a blacksmith," Barnabas explained and spun on his stool to point to the pool table behind him. "Comes in every other day to play pool. Him and his fiancée, uh-"

Barnabas's brows knit together tightly, his thick lips pulled into a thin line. One of his hands came to rub at his temple as his eyes darted around the room, like there was something in it that would help him remember. "God _dammit_, what the hell's her name again?"

"Kiri," Francis supplied, huffing up to them with two mugs in hand. He set them down between Sanji and the Marimo, pushing the glasses closer to them across the wooden counter. "There ya are, two pints."

The Marimo reached for his glass first, his arm stretching across to grasp the handle. Francis's brows furrowed as soon as Zoro moved, something skeptical crossing his face and quickly pulled the mug away from him. The Marimo's head shot up when he only grabbed air, making an expression that was almost a pout caught somewhere between surprised and irritated while still reaching for his mug. Sanji laughed at the sight of it, coughing a little when he choked on his cigarette, though Zoro didn't seem to notice.

"Yer e'ght-teen, righ'?" Francis asked, pulling the mug further away from him.

"Nineteen," Sanji corrected, pointing between them lazily, "Both of us,"

"Aw righ' then," Francis sighed, a relieved look passing over his face as he started to push the glass back. "Haf ta make sure, ya know. It's 'nother one of the mayor's rules…"

The glass was barely in hand before Zoro was throwing his head back and taking a long gulp of ale. Some of it didn't even make it into his mouth, rivers of dark liquid running down his chin and neck and then disappearing beneath the collar of his dirty shirt. _Fucking slob,_ Sanji thought with a growl.

Francis laughed lightly, more under his breath than out loud, smoothing down his graying hair. The Marimo let his hand fall away, the mug meeting the wood with a dull _clunk_. His glass was already half empty now, what was left sloshing against the translucent walls.

"So, are you a swordsman Zoro?" Holt asked, leaning on his arms.

"Yeah," Zoro muttered, taking another swing of ale.

Holt gave a low chuckle, reaching for his mug as well, "Thought so,"

The Marimo's glass hit the bar again; already empty, and he wiped his mouth on his arm. ("God damned pig," Sanji muttered in disgust, though the bastard didn't seem to hear.) "Mind if I take a look?" he asked, pointing to Holt's sword.

Holt blinked up at him for a second, like what the damn Marimo had asked was incomprehensable, before his eyes darted to the blade hanging at his hip. "Oh," he murmured distantly, "Oh yes – of course. Just hold on a second."

He fumbled at the rope that tied the thing to his belt, tugging it every which way with clumsy pulls. He looked a little shorter than the Marimo; though sitting down it was difficult to say. His bright red hair was tied back with a few stray clumps falling into his eyes; and his clothes were much to big for him, Sanji noted, thin brown cloth hanging loosely on his shoulders and bagging where it tucked into his pants. Holt was still pulling at the rope, glancing through his bangs with a sheepish grin.

An amused smile formed at the corner of Sanji's lips, picking up his mug and finally taking a small swallow. He never really had a taste for fermented crap, wincing slightly as it went down. But hell, it would be rude to just give it to the Marimo.

"Okay, I got it," Holt stumbled, pushing the sword to the Marimo hastily. Zoro took it from him with a small nod, shifting in his seat to pull the blade a few inches out of its holder. Sanji took another quick gulp of ale and put his cigarette out in the ashtray beside him, giving the blade a quick once over. He couldn't see anything too special about the thing; then again he never really liked the stupid over sized carving knives anyways. It _looked_ sharp, he could tell that much, the end of it curved to make a smooth edge. The handle part of it was a dark blue, a decorative piece of metal wrapped around it and bent to look like waves.

The Marimo turned it over in his hands, the metal gleaming up at them. Sanji glanced back up at him, resting his arms against the bar and scanning over him carelessly. The light of the blade shined across his face and left a streak from the corner of his mouth to his hairline, wavering every few seconds and making little patterns. He was wearing an unreadable expression, his brows furrowed together and mouth pulled into a thoughtful grimace as he turned the sword in his hands. For a moment it came to Sanji that Zoro always looked like that whenever the idiot got into a fight and a lazy smile traced his lips despite himself. _Must be a swordsman thing,_ he thought listlessly.

Zoro finally pushed the sword back into its holder and handed it back to Holt. "It's a good sword," he said, "Doesn't seem to get much use, though."

"Like I said, I'm just a merchant," Holt replied, tying the sword back on his belt, "Tao made it for me so I'd have something in case I ran into trouble between towns."

"Isn't that him over there?" Barnabas asked, glancing over his shoulder and motioning behind him. Sanji turned on his stool and followed his finger to a tall, black haired figure standing beside the billiards table.

If that guy was Tao, he didn't look anything like Sanji expected him to. He always imagined blacksmiths as short, tubby old men with flabby arms that left sweat stains on their clothes and had thinning hair that might as not even exist. Tao was at least a head taller than half the men in the tavern, and stick thin. His clothes were unwrinkled and free of any obvious stains, and from what Sanji could tell he was one of the one with better hygiene.

Someone tapped his shoulder and Sanji tore his gaze away to see Francis grinning down at him. "Want me ta intr'duce ya?"

Sanji blinked up at him, taking a fleeting look at Tao over his shoulder. He was talking with an older man, a glass in one hand. "I don't think that's necessary-"

"_Nons'nse_," Francis interrupted, "He'd _love_ ta meet'cha!"

He lumbered to Holt's side of the bar before Sanji could say anything else, pushing open the door and squeezing through. He paused as he stepped out, his eyes searching the room and finally falling on to Tao watching the billiards game and turned to Zoro. "Wanna meet 'im real quick? 'M sure he'd like talkin' to a sw'rdsman 'bout a few things."

The Marimo gave him a thoughtful look, and stood wordlessly with a small shrug. Francis chuckled saying something to him that Sanji couldn't hear before taking his shoulder and leading him towards Tao.

Sanji felt someone's hand slap him hard on the back, a thunderous laugh following soon after. His hands caught him before his face could hit the counter, blowing a few stray hairs out of his eye with a firm scowl and glaring up at Barnabas. The grin on Barnabas's lips didn't waver and he gave a light chortle as he picked up his glass. "Havin' a good time, kid?"

Sanji's brow furrowed deeper at 'kid,' and reached into his breast pocket for a smoke. Barnabas was still staring down at him when he looked back, smiling patiently as he waited for an answer. "Yeah," Sanji muttered reluctantly, nearly under his breath and stuck the cigarette between his teeth, "I don't usually do this though."

"Not you're thing, eh?" Barnabas chuckled, throwing his head back taking a swing. He slammed the empty glass down on the bar with a satisfied sigh, pushing it away from him. Sanji had his lighter at his lips, flicking at the end to get the damn thing to light. Barnabas cut him another glance; his eyes flickering down to his body briefly and then back up again. "Ya got any more fags?"

Sanji jolted, losing his grip on the lighter and watching it fumble to the counter. His teeth clamped down and bit through the cigarette's skin, some of the inside contents spilling into his mouth and making him sputter. Someone shouted, though Sanji couldn't tell exactly who as he started to cough, reaching for his glass of ale and taking a quick sip. It went down hard, but the damn choking noises stopped, and his head shot up to look at Barnabas.

"Wh-_What!?_"

Barnabas blinked down at him, obviously bewildered; his eyes darting to the bar and eventually back to him. One of his hands came to scratch the back of his neck and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet his gaze again. "Uh, a ciggie," he offered awkwardly, "Ya got any?"

The sentence didn't register for a moment and just seemed to simply hang in front of him, being heard but holding no meaning. Then something seemed in his head made a connection and Sanji snapped back, his head giving a sudden jerk that pooped his neck. "Oh," he murmured dumbly, "_Oh_. Yeah, sure; hold on."

Sanji's hands dug into his breast pocket, clumsily pulling out the packet of cigarettes that rested there with an annoying prick of warmth rising into his cheeks. He felt like an idiot now, and he was sure that when he looked up the idiotic bastard would have a smug little grin that was fucking _laugh_ing at him. Sanji grit teeth and pushed the box towards Barnabas, not quite meeting his eyes.

Barnabas still had that bemused look on his face; but it was fading slowly and replaced with something more amused, taking the pack slowly with a small 'thanks,' a wry smile starting to form at the corners of his mouth. He took a moment to look down at the pack, studying it carefully before glimpsing back at him from the corner of his eye. "Ya like the Malbros, eh?"

Sanji glanced at the box and shook his head, "Not really; but that's all I could find."

Sanji heard Holt make a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and scowled, whipping around on his stool to face him. "You got something to say?" he hissed, his hands clenching into loose fists when he felt his face get a little warmer.

The lower half of Holt's face was covered by his hand, his eyes shining with enjoyment as stifled chuckles slipped passed his fingers. His shoulders shook with the sounds, hard enough that Holt had to hold onto the edge of the counter to keep him upright. He brought his hand down after a second, shoulders still bobbing and an impish smile playing across his face. "It was funny," he managed to choke out.

Sanji's lips pulled back into a snarl, lifting up a leg to give him a quick kick to his side. It wasn't hard enough to do any real harm, there was no point in causing a commotion; Nami-san wouldn't like that. It was good enough though, Sanji could feel the blush he knew he had starting to die away.

Holt doubled over slightly, hands coming to the side Sanji kicked instinctively with an unbecoming 'oomph.' His head came to rest on the bar, letting it lie there for a moment before turning his head to look up to him, a wide smile still spread across his face. "Fuck, I was just kidding," he said through fits of laughter.

"It's not funny," Sanji, growled back, the warmth in his face not quite gone but not getting any worse. Holt's grin didn't waver, sitting back up slowly. He was a little calmer now, the loud chuckles dying down to snickers and finally just pants. Holt reached for his half empty glass of ale and drained the rest of it, slamming the glass back down and waving Sanji off tiredly. "All right, all right, I'm done."

Sanji didn't answer, taking his glass for another quick swing. There was a minute of silence before Holt yawned widely, resting his chin in his hand. "So you guys got here a few days ago?"

"Yeah," Sanji replied, setting a fresh cigarette between his teeth.

"Are ya with that ship down in the docks?" Barnabas asked, "Ya know, the one with the ram head?"

Sanji nodded, "Yeah that's us."

"Yeah, I saw that ship when it first docked. Beauty of a ship by the way – though a bit rough around the edges."

Sanji gave another nod, the lighter flickering to life and burning the tip of his smoke. For a brief moment he wondered why neither of them was mentioning the Jolly Roger flag hanging from _Merry's _mast, but didn't say anything. _Best not to push it,_ he thought.

"And that friend of yours," Barnabas started, thumbing to the billiards table, "He's a swordsman?"

Sanji barely glimpsed over his shoulder, catching sight of the Marimo's green hair from the corner of his eyes before turning back to Barnabas. "Yeah, he is," he said slowly, taking a careful drag.

"Ah," Barnabas uttered and spun his stool until his back was to the wall, staring where the Marimo was with a thoughtful rub at his goatee. "Kind of small for a swordsman, ain't he?"

Sanji glanced up at him curiously, turning away when he felt Holt move. Holt was looking over his shoulder, eyes trailing up and down before turning back to Barnabas with a light grin. "Nah, he just has broad shoulders and wide hips," he said, making a measurement with his hands and moving from an inch above the counter to eye level. His grin stretched a little wider and he shortened the distance between his hands and lowered them to chest level before continuing. "Makes his waist look smaller than it really is – then _he _looks smaller."

Barnabas gave a low chuckle that Sanji barely registered. His smoke shifted to the corner of his mouth until it almost fell out and arched an eyebrow at Holt. If Holt noticed he didn't say anything, all ready going back to his almost finished pint of ale. Sanji gave him one last curious glance before going back to taking a long drag of his cigarette, shaking his head slowly. _What the fuck is wrong with these people, _he thought with a groan under his breath.

It stayed that way for a while, Sanji didn't bother to count out how long. Francis and the Marimo weren't back yet though; it couldn't have been anymore than a few minutes. Sanji started to turn and seem, but caught himself and went back to his drink. _There's no point looking,_ he berated, _they'll be back any second now._

A roar of laughter made him pause setting his glass down to take a small glimpse over his shoulder. He couldn't see enough though, and with a low groan he turned around fully.

Francis and the Marimo were still with Tao, two other men standing with them. Francis stood between Tao and Zoro, a hand clamped on each of their shoulders and looking between the two of them as he spoke. The tow men both had drinks in hand, one of them saying something that made the others laugh.

Sanji's eyes fell on Zoro, standing in the middle of the crowd. He wasn't laughing like the other men were, but simply stood there, hands shoved deeply into his pockets and nodding whenever anyone said anything. Sanji could barely see the smile at the corner of his lips but he didn't do any more.

_He's the shortest one there,_ he thought numbly, glancing over the five men again. The Marimo was at least a head shorter than Francis, he noted, and his head only came up to about Tao's shoulder. The man that stood at Francis's right was harder to measure though, the guy was maybe about an inch shorter at second glance. The man beside him had a good six inches above the Marimo, and a bit more than twice his size.

Sanji looked back to Zoro again, trailing over his back a little slower this time. The hard muscles that made up his arms, shoulders, and back were obvious, even from a distance, but were subtler than what he'd seen on other swordsmen. They were more toning than anything, thin and lithe but still just as strong. The damn Marimo proved that on more than one occasion. Sanji had to admit that Barnabas was right though; without his swords he didn't really _look_ like a swordsman. A fighter perhaps, but not a swordsman. Most of the swordsman Sanji had ever seen were big, husky things; and now that he thought about it he couldn't recall anyone he had seen the Marimo fight who _wasn't_ at least twice his size.

"Shouldn't Francis be, you know, working?" Sanji asked after a pause, digging the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray carelessly.

Barnabas looked up at him curiously, barely taking a glimpse over his shoulder before giving a shrug. "His two boys are working the bar with him tonight," he explained, "Sometimes his wife stops by to help out, too."

He took a big gulp and finished a glass Sanji couldn't remember seeing him get, letting it fall to the wood with a low _clunk_. Barnabas wiped his mouth on his arm, glancing behind him briefly and looking back at Sanji. "Besides, they're coming back now."

Sanji turned to see Francis lumbering up to them, one hand grasping Tao's arm and the other on the Marimo's shoulder, a large grin spread across his whiskered face. "Righ' where I left ya boys," he chuckled, letting go of Zoro's shoulder and leading Tao towards them, "This 'ere's Sanji, Tao."

Francis gave Tao a small shove and let go of his arm, taking a step back with both hands coming to rest on his hips. Tao stumbled towards them, straightening awkwardly and brushing off the front of his pants. He didn't meet Sanji's eyes right away, looking somewhere by his shoulder and then looking up at him with a polite smile. "Hullo," he murmured, holding out his hand, "I'm Tao."

"Sanji," he replied with a small smile back, taking Tao's hand and giving a firm shake.

Francis grinned widened with a satisfied nod, turning on his heels and wriggling back behind the bar. The Marimo didn't say anything, taking a step back towards his seat when Barnabas stood.

"That reminds me," he said, "We never got a proper introduction."

He took another step towards Zoro and held out a worn hand to him, giving a calm smile. "I'm Barnabas."

The rest of the night passed by quickly, almost blurred between taking shots and talking and laughing at shitty jokes that weren't funny a few minutes later. Sanji was on his fourth glass and a little tipsy when he looked up at the clock again, the hands reading nine-thirty. The Marimo was on his seventh glass and finishing an eighth, his head thrown back as he drained the mug.

"_Christ_ kid," Barnabas whistled when Zoro brought the glass down with the others, "Ya can really put it away. We should have a drinking match with ya."

"It's getting late," Sanji cut in, "We should get going."

"Some other time then," Barnabas sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

Sanji stood up, reaching into his pocket for the beli still left in his pocket. "Come on, Marimo."

The Marimo frowned up at him, but stood up, digging into his pockets and setting the bills down on the counter beside his glasses. Sanji set his money beside it, his hand coming to his breast pocket of a cigarette. Francis picked up the old bills carefully, counting through them quickly before looking back up with a smile. "Well thank ya boys," he said, tucking the beli into his front pocket, "I'd like ta give ya one on the house, but the missus don't like that."

Sanji smiled, setting the smoke between his teeth and reaching for his lighter. "It was nice meeting you."

He gave one last wave before turning back to the door, wobbling a little on his feet as he pushed it open. It was nearly black where the lanterns didn't reach now, the yellow and orange toned circles illuminating the rest of the road. A light gust of cold air passed over him as he stepped outside that made him shiver, shielding his lighter away from it as he flicked it to life. The Marimo followed after him, letting the door swing shut behind him and stepping into the light. He didn't look at all drunk, but that wasn't a surprise, the Marimo drank the shit like it was fucking _water_. Sanji sometimes wondered where he even had room for all of it.

"Well that was fun," Zoro yawned, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers. The lighter sparked to life and Sanji held it to the tip of his cigarette, letting the end burn a little before taking a slow inhale.

"It was alright," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders and setting the lighter back in the pockets of his slacks. He was starting to sway and had to catch himself before he fell, taking another long drag to clear his head.

The Marimo wasn't facing him, staring up at the sky jadedly. He gave another low, animalistic yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting them fall carelessly to his sides. "We should starting back," he said tiredly, still not turning to look at him.

Sanji could feel himself starting to tip again and shifted his feet farther apart to keep his balance. "You go on a head," he replied, exhaling a dull cloud of gray, "I want to finish this smoke first."

The Marimo finally turned to look at him, fixing his eyes on him lazily. His gaze trailed over him with a quick once over, pausing when Sanji swayed again before coming up to meet his gaze. "Light weight."

"Shut up, asshole," Sanji growled, though there was no real bite behind it.

A drowsy smirk traced the corners of the Marimo's mouth and he turned to walk away, raising a hand to wave him off. "See you at the ship, Cook."

Sanji gave a nod, smiling despite himself and taking another long drag as he watched Zoro go. The light of the houses was long gone, the only source being the dim lanterns hanging overhead and the crevice from the bottom of the tavern door. The Marimo stepped into the halo of pale yellow where the glow was strongest, looking a little too bright for a second and then fading a little as he came to the middle of the road. He paused for a second, shifting on his feet a little to look down the street and shifting again to look up and then back again. Sanji chuckled, and thin exhale of smoke leaving his parted lips. "It's _left_, Marimo."

The Marimo's shoulders stiffened, coming up in arch but not bothering to look at him. He turned and started to take a step to the right, and as Sanji opened his mouth to call him on it, he paused once more before heading left. "_There _you go."

"Shut it, stupid Cook."

Another easy laugh left him, griping the cigarette between his fingers for a slow drag. Zoro stepped out of the lanterns' ring, darkening greatly in the murky shadows and then reappearing again. He was a few houses down now, ambling casually down the street and seemingly unfazed by the cold night air despite wearing only a white short-sleeved. He was still heading in the right direction, but it was only a matter of time before the idiot made a wrong turn. Sanji took a quicker drag at the thought, watching the smoke drift up to the night sky before turning back to the Marimo.

Zoro was already going around the corner, stepping out of view around one of the houses and in the direction of the _Merry_. After a moment Sanji felt movement just outside his vision and turned the showed houses where the lanterns didn't reach and squinted into the dark.

A large, blobby form lurked from the side of a house, a little ways away from where the Marimo had turned. It shifted a little, coming to the end of the house it stood beside and seemed to peek around the corner where Zoro had gone. Sanji's brow furrowed and he took a cautious step forward, teeth gritting into the tip of his cigarette. The blob seemed to make a decision and pulled away from the house and stepped into the street and the glow of the lanterns.

The cigarette fell from Sanji's lips as the bastard from the first day came forward, swaying lightly on his feet with a swing of hips that all fat men seem to carry themselves with. There was an ugly leer spread across his face, clear as day even from a distance. It was the same creepy look the asshole was wearing when Sanji first saw Zoro and the bastard, something lustful and possessive that made Sanji's skin crawl. The bastard's smile widened a little and he jogged clumsily in the same direction as the Marimo, disappearing behind the house in the blink of an eye.

Sanji blinked after him, snapping out of his daze and sprinting after him. As he neared the road he skidded to a stop, nearly losing his balance when he turned to look down the road. The street was empty, the dimming lanterns swinging lethargically above.

* * *

Author's Note: Hurray, I'm back! Surprise. :D All right, I know I said that I wouldn't be back until August, but I found the computer lab and had some free time. This was all ready written and I just couldn't resist getting it down. But don't expect any more than this I'm afraid; it's almost ridiculously busy here (but worth every second). ;P So just in case I really can't anything else typed until August, I ended it on a cliffhanger just to tease all of you… because I'm evil that way. XD Anyways, I don't particularly like this chapter in some parts…it just doesn't feel quite right, and Sanji just feels really out of character for some reason. Maybe it's just me, but I kind of feel the need to redo a lot of it, but maybe not. I had fun with it despite any flaws it might have. I hope you enjoy it anyways. ^^'

And to clear a few things up, 'fag' is the British slang for cigarette. I always got a little humor out of that and have wanted to make a joke using it for the longest time, and this felt like a good time to use it...It's not the best joke in the world, but they can't all be winners. :P

With Love,

BecauseIWasBored


	9. Date Rape, Without The Date

Chapter 9: Date Rape, Without the Date

The stuttered, unhurried footsteps coming up the road thundered in the silent streets, sounding loud in Zoro's ears despite the distance he knew was between them. It wasn't the Cook though, the slow movements sounded much too heavy to be him. It was probably some drunk from the tavern trying to get home, and judging by the occasional pause in stumble in the steps he was wasted as hell. Zoro shook his head and kept walking, stretching his arms in small circles with a low yawn, forgetting the noise and watching the road lazily.

He paused when he reached a fork in the road a few houses later, his gaze shifting between the streets with a tired groan. Everything looked different at night, and with all the buildings looking so similar all ready it was difficult to tell which way he and the Love Cook had come from. Zoro studied the left road for a moment longer before he turned to look back down the right, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear and brush his earrings against each other. He could hear the footsteps coming closer and his curiosity got the better of him, shifting enough to give a careless glance over his shoulder.

There was a brawny figure just outside the places where the light reached, slowly lumbering down the road. There was no doubt that it was a man, but other than that Zoro couldn't tell much else about him. The guy had a slight sway to his walk (_Definitely drunk,_ Zoro mused) and every once in a while he looked like he was going to fall before finding his footing again, coming to almost brush against the lantern's glow and then sinking back into shadow. It was too dark to tell for sure, but the man didn't seem to notice him. Hell, he seemed drunk enough; Zoro doubted that the guy would bother him. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see past the place where the lantern's ring ended before turning away with a careless shrug pausing for a moment and taking the path on the left. That road looked a little familiar at least, and they were both going the same direction anyways.

Zoro gave another low yawn, one of his hands coming to cover his mouth. The rest of the crew probably wasn't asleep yet, it was still early and Luffy tended to keep everyone up. Zoro didn't feel like staying up much longer though, the sofa was going to be free when he got back and sleep sounded like a good idea. A small smile traced his lips at the thought and he sped up a little, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets.

It was after he passed a few houses that Zoro realized he could still hear footsteps. His brows furrowed at the sound, unsure what to make of it but not bothering to stop. They weren't in a big town, so it wasn't too surprising if the drunk's house was in the same direction, but for a brief moment Zoro was sure he could coming closer and a second later they faded away and he couldn't hear them at all. Zoro passed another house as slowed down enough to glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see the drunk anymore; the lantern's light swinging lazily in the wind. Zoro frowned a little, staring for a moment longer before turning back to the street ahead of him once more.

_Guy must've found his house, I guess, _he mused, a lethargic smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Zoro looked back up to the road and the smile fell, his pace faltering to blink in surprise. "What the hell?" he muttered, starting forward in a jog.

The road ended a few houses in front of him, widening enough for the buildings to be arranged in a circle. They were wider than some of the other places, pressed tightly together so that there was hardly any space between them. The lanterns were starting to dim, fading into a rusty orange, rather than yellow, their faint light barely outlining the structures around them and letting the rest get swallowed by shadow.

Zoro brought himself to a stop, his boots skidding across the dirt and making a cloud of dust rise around his ankles. A growl of frustration started to form in the back of his throat, his teeth gritting tightly together as his gaze trailed over the vacant street. It was definitely a dead end, the buildings were too close for there to be any alleyways or side roads; he would probably have to go back to where the fork was and take the other street. A low, annoyed sigh left Zoro's lips as he turned and walked away, his eyes shifting between watching the dirt and looking up at the road for a while before he caught sight of something just outside the darkness.

There was a side road a few houses away from him, tucked firmly between a pair of two-storied houses. It was a narrow thing, the shingled roofs it was pressed into almost touching one another and Zoro guessed that there was just enough room to walk down it. He couldn't see anything lighting the road though, and he had to squint to see it well; if he went that way he was sure it would be pitch black. _Then again,_ Zoro thought tiredly, _that sounds a lot better than going back if that way goes somewhere._

Zoro gave one last glance to the empty street ahead of him, grimacing a little and looking back to the alleyway. Zoro stared thoughtfully at the dark street for a moment longer, and with a low sigh stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and headed for the alley.

It wasn't as dark as he thought it would be, the lanterns illuminated enough for him to see where he was going, but further down the glow faded away. That was okay though, if Zoro squinted he could see a faint yellowed light at the far end. A weary grin spread across his lips as another low yawn escaped him, rolling his shoulders tiredly and starting forward. It wasn't as narrow as it first looked; Zoro noted jadedly, the walls would just barely be out of reach if held his arm out to them. The sides of the buildings were cluttered with stacks of old newspapers and slightly rusted trash cans pressed against the walls, weathered planks and scraps of metal that were too big to fit set carefully beside them. The dulled light made Zoro's shadow long and black and made strange patterns across the floor as he walked, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls and filling the silence.

Zoro let out a slow breath, looking up to the strip of sky that was still visible between the buildings. The stars were out and from what he could tell the moon was roughly three quarters full, their luminosity gently brushing over the places the lanterns couldn't reach and tinting them with a blue glow. Zoro took another deep breath and looked back to the road, watching the dirt shift under his steps. The Love Cook would be done with his cigarette and heading back to the _Merry_ about now, and knowing the stupid Cook he'd either still be stumbling around the deck or passed out in the hammocks by the time he got back. _Damn Cook couldn't hold his own if his life depended on it,_ Zoro thought, laughing lightly with a soft sigh. He was halfway down the street and the light at the end of the alley was just starting to touch the walls when he finally looked up and stopped walking altogether.

_Who the hell put this wall here?! _Zoro thought angrily, a low snarl rumbling from deep in his chest and his fists clenching the fabric of his pockets. He was only a few steps away from it and had to look up in order to see the top, his scowl deepening but otherwise not moving. It was an old wooden fence, the tops of the planks worn down to jagged edges and nearly black from the lantern's glow behind them. A few places had knotholes, the light from the other side streaming through and reflecting off bits of dust drifting through the air. Zoro took a step towards it, reaching forward and grabbing hold of the rough wood where the support held the boards together. The fence shifted a few inches under the slight pressure, then stopped abruptly and didn't move any further.

Zoro stayed where he was for a moment, his other hand grasping the top of one of the splintered planks and lifting himself up. The wood creaked in protest under his weight, swaying a little when one of his boots dug into the lower support and he stepped up enough to peek at the other end. There wasn't anything that he could see that was recognizable, he noted with a distasteful groan, letting go and dropping back down to the ground. He wiped his hands on the front of his trousers and turned away, keeping his eyes on the dirt for a minute with a small scowl. Going back to the fork sounded like a good idea now, and he didn't really feel up to taking a road that went who knew where-

There was something blocking the alley entrance a few feet away from him. Zoro's shoulders tensed at the sight of it, a small sound leaving him and his left hand twitching towards his right hip but only grabbing air. The thing didn't move, towering over him where the light was the dimmest and leaving the lanterns useless. Zoro stayed where he was at first, his shoulders still tensed as he glared into the darkness, straining to make something out of the blobby silhouette. Then the thing _moved_ and Zoro realized it was a man.

"Hey sweetheart," his voice slurred, one of his hands clumsily fumbling to grasp Zoro's upper arm. "Where the hell have you been hiding?"

_The Toad,_ Zoro thought with a snarl, yanking his arm out of the man's grip harshly and swinging a fist out blindly. He felt the air move and a handclasp around his wrist before his knuckles connected with a _squish_. The Toad stumbled backwards, still holding his arm with a low chuckle and for a moment Zoro wondered what the hell was so _funny_, cringing when the musky smell of whiskey and mothballs reached his nostrils.

"I went to the brothel like the blondey said," the Toad mumbled, hunching over a little so that they were almost at eye level, "Couldn't find ya anywhere."

Zoro blinked at that, his mouth falling open but no sound coming out. The Toad made a noise that wasn't quite a laugh and Zoro felt him smile more than he saw it. "But that's okay," The Toad said, his hot breath skimming over Zoro's neck, "We can make up for that _now_."

Zoro felt the hand on his shoulder before he saw the Toad move, the rest of the bastard's body weight following soon after it. The back of Zoro's head slammed against the wall and for a split second a streak of white crossed his vision before his feet left the ground and his back was pressed against the wall completely. The hand still on his wrist groped at his hip, still catching his arm and pinning it firmly at his side and then closing the gap between them. Toad's burly stomach pressed against his legs, his left leg left dangling while the Toad pushed against his right thigh with a solid rub. An animalistic sound rumbled in the back of Zoro's throat at the motion, hunching his shoulders to twist the hand gripping his fore arm when he felt the Toad move and something hot and wet running up the length of his neck.

For a split second Zoro didn't move, freezing in the Toad's hands as his tongue slid across his skin. Then he was moving again, thrashing wildly with a hoarse growl. His free leg kicked out and knocked against the cans beside him, the heavy crash they made when they tumbled to the floor ringing off the walls. The Toad made a gurgling noise when Zoro's foot dug into his side, the grip on his arms loosening when he pulled away enough to laugh. Zoro wrenched his arm away from hand clenching his hip and grabbed the Toad's neck; pushing him back enough to pull wriggle his other arm free. His foot dug into the Toad's gut and kicked him hard, shoving him until the bastard was at arm's length.

"Hands off!" he snapped, making a fist with his free hand and smashing into the side of the Toad's face.

Toad's head snapped back, following his fist until it was almost like he was looking over his shoulder. He made a croaking noise that really did sound like a toad and Zoro chucked despite himself, pulling his fist back as he started to slide down the wall. Then there was a hand clenched into his shirt and he was yanked forward, a startled gasp barely leaving him before he hit the ground.

The bulky body of the Toad collapsed on top of him, ramming their chests together and leaving Zoro winded. The Toad was moving again a moment later, the palm of his hand sliding across his side and pinning his legs beneath him. His chin came to rest on Zoro's shoulder, sour breath running across his ear and leaving it moist and itchy. "Oh, I see; you like it rough, huh?" he asked, something playful thick in his voice.

Zoro's eyes narrowed and he pushed his hands against the Toad's chest, making a sound of disgust when they sank between folds of fat. The Toad's weight gave and he pulled away, his arms moving to either side of Zoro's head. There was enough light that Zoro could see his face now, leering crookedly down at him, the light shining in his eyes making them looked glazed.

The Toad licked his lips, raising a hand to run a sausage of a finger down the side of Zoro's jaw. "You sure know how to make the blood run south, don't ya?"

Another sneer pulled at he sides of Zoro's lips and he flinched away from the bastard's touch, grasping the Toad's shoulder and pulling his other hand back into a fist. "You _pervert,_" he hollered through grit teeth, "Get the fuck _off _me!"

His fist shot forward and connected just under the Toad's chin and cracked his head backwards, his teeth clicking together painfully with a gurgled 'oomph.' He swayed a little but stayed where he was, his head dropping heavily between his shoulders with a low groan. Zoro grasped the Toad's shoulder and pulled his fist back again to hit him again when he felt the Toad's hand under his knee.

The Toad's head shot back up to him and something unnerving flashed in his eyes before they were tumbling again, Toad's other arm curling around his waist. Zoro's cheek collided with his shoulder; sweat stained skin leaving a slick trail. Zoro pushed away with a grunt and grabbed a handful of what he assumed to be hair and yanked hard, smirking a little when the Toad cried out. One of Zoro's shoulder's hit something hard and the clash of metal hitting the ground ricocheted in his ears, pulling his free hand back and hitting the Toad a little bit below the ribcage. His fatty tissue molded around his hand and the Toad made another choked noise before the hand holding onto his knee tightened and hauled Zoro's leg closer to his burly stomach.

It took a minute for Zoro to notice that they weren't moving anymore. The Toad was sitting with his back against the wall, the hand around his waist sliding down to grasp his hip again. There was a drunken grin spread across his face, his cheeks flushed a deep red in the light of the lanterns and making his eyes shine darkly. He made a noise that made Zoro's skin crawl and rubbed the back of his knee lightly, bringing his face closer with his mouth parted open. Zoro jerked back and turned his head away, the Toad brushing his chapped lips against the side of his jaw instead of his mouth with an amused chuckle. "You sure are a wild one," he muttered, sitting up a little higher so that they were at eye level, "But I bet you're a good ride, though."

The Toad shifted until his back was flat against the wall, something blunt pressing against Zoro's rear. Zoro could feel his face growing warm despite himself and snarled at the feel of it, the hand still tangled in the bastard's greasy hair tightening and swinging a clenched hand to his face, knuckles connecting with the Toads ear.

"You fat creep," he yelled, bringing his hand back and continued hitting him as he spoke, "You fucking perverted _creep!_ Get the fuck off me; get you fucking hands off me, you bastard! Get _off!_ I swear I'm going to kill you for this! I'll snap you fat _toad_ neck and- _ah!_"

Zoro felt a sting of pain in the junction between his neck and shoulder, the Toad's nose rubbing into the fabric of his shirt. He was sure he felt the Toad smile before he burrowed deeper, the hand on his leg reaching up to grab his ass. The Toad stood up, the hand on his rear giving a harsh squeeze and ramming him into the wall across from them, the building seeming to shake with the force.

Zoro groaned when his head knocked against the bricks again, hissing a 'fuck' under his breath. The Toad chuckled around his neck and gave one last mockingly gentle bite and licking his way up to tug at an earring. "Yeah, keep talking sweetie," the Toad whispered, "I'm loving that dirty mouth."

The hand on his ass slid up to his hip once more, clasping it hard enough that Zoro couldn't hold back a wince. The Toad's other hand seized a handful of his shirt and pulled hard. The fabric stretched for a second before it tore at the collar, ripping almost halfway down the center before he took the sleeve. The hand at Zoro's hip tightened its grip and Toad yanked the rest of shirt away, the black bandana on his arm falling away with it. The Toad met Zoro's eyes and gave a sly smile, his tongue reaching out to give a small lick on his collarbone before he bit down again.

"Bastard," Zoro hissed, his eyes narrowing darkly. His leg shot forward and dug into the Toad's stomach just above his groin. Toad grunted from his place at his shoulder, his teeth sinking a little deeper before he pulled away. Zoro kicked him again and his foot burrowed his foot deeper into the Toad's gut, wriggling one of his arms free from where it had been stuck between their chests. The Toad finally turned to face him, brows furrowed in bewilderment. His mouth opened to say something and in the faded light Zoro could see his gold tooth glinting up at him.

Zoro's eyes narrowed, jerking his other hand free and shoving at the Toad's shoulder. The Toad seemed to blink up at him and Zoro balled his hand firmly, drawing it back until his elbow touched the wall. "I said _let go!_" he snapped and threw his fist forward.

His hand collided with the Toad's nose and there was a loud _crunch_ that followed it, his head snapping back harshly. Hot blood spurted from both his nostrils and ran through Zoro's fingers and down his arm, tinted yellow by the lanterns. The Toad let out a gurgled howl and let go of his hip, groping blindly at his face until he covered up his face. "My _nose_!" he shrieked, "Oh, God _dammit_, my _nose! _You mongrel little son of a _bitch_ I think you broke my fucking _nose_!"

The Toad let out another low groan and took a step back, his foot knocking over a few more cans and sending them hurtling to the floor. He let go completely and Zoro slid down the wall, his boots barely touching the dirt road when the Toad's nails dug into his shoulder and slammed him back against the wall.

There wasn't enough light to see him fully anymore, most of his face swallowed by shadow. The blood already crusting on his jaw looked black, lips pulled back in an angry snarl. His glazed eyes were narrowed and looked fierce in the darkness, a heated streak of light shining across them. He pushed Zoro harder, his thumb driving deep into the skin just below his neck until he almost couldn't breath. "You wanna play rough, ya little bastard?" the Toad sneered, looming over him until he couldn't see the bastards face anymore, "_I'll _show ya fucking _rough!_"

Zoro felt the calloused back of the Toad's hand connect with his right ear before he even saw him move, his head turning with the force of it and the side of his face ramming into the brick wall behind him. He felt his bottom lips split as it scraped against the rough stone, coppery blood trickling through his teeth. The hand at his shoulder wrenched him away from the building and swung him further into the alley, boots hardly scraping the ground before the Toad let go. Zoro stumbled, a sound of surprise leaving him and fell roughly into the scraps already scattered across the floor. He heard his pants rip and felt something metal jab painfully into his leg, the fabric around it soaked with warm liquid soon after.

The Toad was on him in an instant, bulky body collapsing on top of him and with a solid _thud_. Zoro let out a low groan at the weight despite himself, clasping his shoulders to push him away. The Toad let out a snarl and seized his neck, the tips of his fingers managing to touch and gave a punishing squeeze. Zoro's eyes widened, his hands falling away and scrabbled to clutch the Toad's wrist. For a split second his vision darkened before he felt the Toad move again, his grip loosening enough for Zoro to draw a breath.

He felt the Toad's knees press between his legs and force them apart, burrowing his legs underneath his thighs before Zoro could pull them back together. His other hand was gentler, the tips of his finger barely grazing over his chest and over the fabric of his haramaki before grasping the hem of his pants with a hand pull. Zoro's eyes widened and he clawed at the hand wrapped around his throat, twisting in the Toad's grip to look past his forearm to where the hand at his pants was. He could feel the button and the seams tearing under the strain, his lower half lifted off the ground as the Toad jerked them left and right. Even though he wasn't looking Zoro glared up at him, his nails digging at the skin of his wrist enough for it to bleed.

"Get you hands of me you ugly _toad_…" he hissed, bracing himself on his heels to try and get his knees back together.

The Toad paused and looked up at him, lying on him further to keep him legs spread. He didn't look mad anymore, smiling smugly and leaning down until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"All you cock teases are the same, aren't you?" he whispered and almost affectionately licked the skin under Zoro's left eye.

He gave a forceful tug and the front of his pants ripped away, the crotch part of it completely gone. Zoro tensed under his hand, opening his mouth to say something, _anything_, but no words coming out. The Toad started to fumble wildly now, shredding at his trousers until there was almost nothing left between his thighs. Something rigid was press into him again and a hand was at the hem of his boxers, a finger lazily trailing over the skin above it. Zoro made a girthed, frustrated noise in the back of his throat and pushed harder against the arm holding him down, feeling thick streams of blood flowing between his fingers. In the distance, he thought he could hear a dog barking, but quickly brushed it aside.

"Marimo! Oi, _Marimo!_"

Zoro jolted, his grip on the Toad faltering for an instant and simply lying there. The Toad seemed to have heard it too because he had let go of his boxers and was looking up at the alley's opening, an expression caught somewhere between surprise and horror written across his face. Zoro arched his back and closed his legs, bending backward to look behind him. The light was a lot brighter than he remembered and he had to shy away from it, blinking into it and looking back to the end of the street. He couldn't see anyone, but he was sure he heard footsteps. "C-Cook?" he managed to call out, grimacing a little at how desperate it sounded.

"Marimo?" the Cook cried, sounding breathless, "Marimo, where the hell are you?"

The Toad's hand constricted before he could say anything else, lifting his head up and smashing it back into the ground. Zoro reeled, nails digging into hiss arm with a quiet growl. His leg lashed out and hit something hard, sending it skidding loudly across the floor. Toad made an annoyed sound and leaned over him again, his hot breath brushing over him lightly. "Don't you _dare _try any shit you fucking-"

Something skidded across the dirt before he could finish, his hand reflexively tightening and his head snapping up. Then something hit him and he made another croaking noise, head snapping backwards and the rest of his body shaking with the force. He stayed that way for a second before he fell forward, the rest of his weight fall on top of Zoro with a low groan. Zoro grunted at the weight and wrenched his neck free, his hands returning to the Toad's shoulders to push the bastard off.

The Toad moaned again and shakily started to get up, one of his arms trying to wrap around his waist. Something long and black started slamming into his head again; the scalp starting to tear where the thing connected and occasionally making bits of hair fall to the floor. Zoro stared at it for a moment, not sure what it was before it came to him, shifting under the Toad enough to look up.

The Love Cook was towering over both of them, one leg raised as he drove it into the Toad's skull. There was definitely more light now and Zoro could see his face clearly, his lips pulled back into a fierce snarl and eyes narrowed dangerously. He was screaming as he kicked, a violent mantra that Zoro couldn't help but smile at.

"Get off him! You hear me, shitty asshole?! I said get _off_ him! You goddamned pervert; you goddamned fucking _pervert!_ I ought to skewer you! What kind of sick creep _are_ you?! You goddamned pervert; you goddamned fucking-"

Zoro gave the Toad's shoulders another hard shove and wiggled out from under him, getting one his knees and pushing him away. The Cook was still going though, the Toad's head lolling whenever the heel of his shoe connected. The Toad's head rolled to one side, and looked up with Zoro with hazed eyes, something lustful still shining in them. Zoro cringed in disgust and pulled back a fist, throwing it forward and connecting with his cheek.

Zoro let the Toad go and Sanji's foot connected a second later, his face squishing under the tough soul in a spray of blood. He flew backwards, tumbling across the dirt floor and hit the discarded bits of wood and metal like a dead weight. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed of the walls and then it was silent, the Toad's body crumpled into a useless heap.

It was quiet now and Zoro could hear the sound of doors shutting over his slow pants. Hushed voices followed soon after it and the light was starting to get brighter, it wouldn't be long before people started coming. Zoro fell forward, his hands catching him before he hit the ground and his head hanging low with a sigh. When he looked back up again he could see the Toad's face again, halfway pressed into the dirt. It didn't look like he had a nose anymore; a bright red bubble forming between his lips while the rest of his blood trickled sluggishly down his chin and onto the floor.

He let out another slow breath, letting his eyes slide closed for a few seconds before looking up to the Love Cook. The Cook was looking back at him, watching him carefully with an unreadable expression. He had his hands in the pockets of his slacks but his arm would twitch every once in awhile, Zoro guessed it was for a cigarette.

Zoro made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and sat up a little more, crossing his arms over his bare chest awkwardly. The Cook's expression didn't change and Zoro managed to smile, trying to keep out the tremor he knew was in his voice but not quite succeeding.

"W-wow, Sanji. Didn't know you had it in you."

* * *

Author's Note: Admit it, you thought Zoro was going to get raped didn't you? ;D But hey, an update! All right, I honestly have _no_ excuse for not getting this up sooner. It's been hell since I got back from the Pre-College Program, starting with the six hour 'car ride from hell' that left me completely skull-fucked and being dragged on family trips every other day afterwards and celebrating my birthday. (Seventeen, woot!) It also doesn't help that I have to write about ten essays for art colleges and may or may not have to retake the SAT's. I can't tell if I did well on those things or not. -_-' So anyways, this will probably be the last chapter I do until school starts. Hopefully it's good. I've never really written anything remotely close to smut, so this was a little awkward to do (I know it isn't smut, but bear with me). I probably shouldn't be giving shit to people who write bad smut, I can kind of see why people have problems now. ^^' Anyways, I know Zoro is weak again in this chapter, but in all fairness, it's pretty creepy to learn that a perverted man's been looking for you in a brothel…

Anyways, I'm not really sure what this chapter would be rated under. I've never been good at that kind of thing. I'm just going to keep it under 'T' for now, I guess. That's all I can think of right now. Hopefully it won't take too long with the next one. But with the damn essays I wouldn't count on it. At least they aren't stupid topics. Anyways, all your reviews really make my day. Thanks for all the support.

With Much Love,

BecauseIWasBored


	10. Not Open For Debate

Chapter 10: Not Open For Debate

Sanji was staring down at the Toad when Zoro looked up again. The blank indifference had left his features, lips drawn into a thin scowl and nostrils flaring with his shallow breaths. There was an unnatural stiffness to the Cook, figure tensed just enough to be visible under the thick jacket and slacks. In the streetlight his eyes blazed, red-orange streaks darting across the surface and drawing out a fiery anger Zoro remembered seeing whenever he watched the Cook fight. It was almost the same way the Cook glared when someone attacked one of the girls, but there was something about it that Zoro didn't have a name for.

A low, gurgled noise cut through the silence. Zoro turned to it, his gaze falling on to the Toad's broken face. Most of the blood had dried, crusted brown patches clinging to his mouth and cheeks. Two thin trickles of red still ran from what was left of his nose, sluggishly dripping to a small puddle beneath his chin. The Toad sputtered after a second, lifting his head a few inches off the floor and giving a raspy groan, a fresh splatter of blood coating his grimy jaw before falling back into the dirt.

Zoro's nose wrinkled in disgust, his nails digging into the fabric of his haramaki with a low growl. The Toad made another croaking sound, his head lolling until half of his face was pressed against the road. His half-lidded eye met Zoro's and for a moment. Zoro turned away sharply, letting his sight wander for a minute before he found himself glaring at the Love Cook's shoes. One of the soles was bloody, he noted, the bright maroon mixed with dust standing out in the shine of the lanterns. _Damn Cook really kicked the shit out of that toady bastard,_ Zoro thought distastefully, grimacing at the fact that the stupid Cook had needed to step in at all, and glimpsing up enough to see the Curly Brow's face.

The Love Cook's gaze lingered on the Toad a few moments longer, a heavy, irritated sigh leaving him before he finally looked away. His eyes flickered to the floor at first, staring at some unknown spot and then trailing up to Zoro. For a second his curled browed furrowed, almost accusingly. Zoro flinched under the glare despite himself, drawing his arms closer to cover more of his bare chest and scowling back up at the Love Cook. There was a short pause before the Cook's expression softened into something more thoughtful, shoulders sagging when he shifted on his feet.

They stayed like that for a minute, regarding one another quietly. Zoro's heartbeat was starting to sound loud over the silence though, drowning out the faint murmur of voices that echoed off the walls. The streetlights were also getting brighter, he noted, a soft glow coming from around the corner in streams of white and making strange shapes along the alleyway. They formed spider web patterns when the shadows passed over the Love Cook, thin stripes crossing over him like war paint.

Zoro tore his gaze away, looking down at the space between them and slowly shifting his leg out from under him. He leaned back on his other heel as he pulled himself up until he was kneeling and nearly lost his balance, pressing one of his hands firmly against the ground to keep him from falling. His other hand rested on his knee as he started to stand, and Zoro realized that his hands were shaking. Zoro grit his teeth and cursed under his breath, clenching his fists tightly and pushing himself to his feet.

Dull pain in the side of his leg and along his abdomen made itself known and Zoro swayed for a moment, making a small sound of annoyance before steadying himself. He didn't look at the Love Cook or the Toad, but he could feel the Cook's eyes burning holes into his back as he scanned the alley ground. He caught sight of his shirt amongst the scraps of metal and paper, slumped uselessly in a pile of white fabric. He took a few steps towards it and the remains of his trousers slid down a few inches, stopping to hang loosely just below his hipbones. An annoying prick of heat started to rise in Zoro's cheeks and he yanked his pants back up again, bending over stiffly and picking up what was left of his shirt. It was ripped into three pieces, a diagonal strip separating the collar and a sleeve from the rest of it and the middle torn beyond repair. Zoro growled softly at the sight of it, clenching the chunks tightly.

"Forget it, Marimo," the Love Cook said quietly, voice carefully leveled, "It's useless."

Zoro sighed, shoulders sagging and letting the white scraps fall to the floor. As they landed he saw his bandana lying nearby and picked it up without a second thought, wrapping it tightly around his left wrist. When he turned around the Love Cook was fiddling with the top button of his jacket, looking everywhere but directly at him. He raised a hand to cover his mouth as he cleared his throat awkwardly. The Cook didn't look up at him again, letting his arm drop to his side like a dead weight as his eyes trailed anxiously to where the Toad lay. He started to open his mouth to speak when a blinding light filled the alley.

Zoro shied away from it, throwing up a hand to cover his eyes as he blinked away the spots. Footsteps rang along the walls, the crunch of gravel underfoot steadily drawing closer. Zoro slowly lowered his arm a little, turning towards the sound and squinting dazedly through his fingers. A vaguely human figure was lumbering into the alley, the glow of what Zoro guessed was a lantern swinging as it moved. It was impossible to see much else though; against the light the person was only a genderless silhouette.

"The hell's going _on_ out here?" the blurry shaped called out, voice deep and tired but undoubtedly a woman's, "Don't you know what _time_ it is? No one can _sleep_ with you hooligans making all this rack-"

Her voice died when she was a few feet away from them, her steps coming to a sluggish halt. The lamp she was holding swung lazily when she lowered her arm, illuminating enough that Zoro could see her clearly. She was an older woman, deep wrinkles hanging under her eyes and face starting to sag with age. Her figure was wide and portly, brawny shoulders and big hips evident under the stiff fabric of her flannel nightgown. The garment ended at her knees though, showing her thick legs and cankled feet – and the long sleeves did nothing to hide her tubby arms. The front of her nightdress had come undone so that her heavy cleavage almost spilled out of it. Her dark hair was a matted mess, a small nightcap thrown haphazardly over it. She hadn't even bothered to put on shoes.

The woman took a small step forward, her wide eyes darting between Zoro and the Love Cook with surprise and confusion clearly written on her face. Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words and closed it again. After a moment the woman started to shuffle towards them again, shaking her head as though she was making sure she wasn't seeing things before she started to speak again.

"What on Earth…?" she finally murmured, voice sounding much softer now. Her gaze continued to shift from him to the Love Cook as she drew closer, searching for an answer between the two of them. Zoro lowered his gaze before she could catch his eyes, scratching his heel with the toe of his boot uncomfortably. He heard the Love Cook clear his throat and he turned to him, watching the Cook set a new cigarette between his teeth before turning back to the woman.

She wasn't looking at either of them now, glassy eyes fixed on some unknown spot behind them. Then she blinked and the dazed look was gone, shaking her head a little as she looked back up at them.

"What," she started, licking over her lips and swallowing hard, "What the hell are you boys _doing _out here?"

Zoro's teeth clicked together when his jaw tensed, still not quite meeting the woman's gaze. When she didn't get an answer she raised her lantern a little higher, revealing the Toad behind them.

Her gaze fell to the floor where the burly body lay, taking a few steps closer to get a better look. She didn't seem to know what she was looking at for a minute, squinting into the dull light with an eyebrow arched in question. Then her eyes widened and she jumped back, a small cry of recognition leaving her.

"Oh my _God!_" she wailed, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth as she quickly shambled back. Her head shot up and she met Zoro's eyes, holding his gaze for a second before she turned to the Love Cook, still shuffling away from them. Zoro could see the fear in her wide eyes, and for a moment he was sure that she was going to run. Uncrossing his arms, he started to take a step forward to tell her it wasn't what it looked like, (though technically it _was, _now that he thought about it) when the Toad gave another croaking groan.

Zoro tore his gaze away from the woman to look at him, mouth pulling into a thin grimace. The Toad's face was all ready swollen now; between the crushed nose, dried blood, and the bruising skin it hardly resembled anything human. Zoro smiled a little at the sight, admiring the injuries he'd given the bastard Toad a moment longer before turning back to the woman.

She was staring down at the Toad again, hand still pressed over her mouth. Her expression was less fearful now though, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed thoughtfully. She stayed that way a few moments longer before she looked up to Zoro, her hand falling heavily too her side. Her eyes widened again and Zoro could see alarm shining through once more; but as he opened his mouth to explain she hurried over to him, worried panic clearly written across her face.

"Are you boys all right?" she asked, eyes briefly darting to the Love Cook before catching Zoro's gaze. The lantern nearly blinded him being so close and he slowly blinked the spots away meeting the woman's stare when he could see again. Her eyes searched his face as she waited patiently for an answer, mouth pulled into a thin line to try and hide the fact that her lower lip was trembling.

"Yeah, we're fine." He replied awkwardly, clearing his throat. He could feel the Love Cook's eyes on him, but didn't bother to look.

The woman frowned a little, looking up at him skeptically. Her head only reached his collarbone, Zoro noted, and she was close enough that Zoro could see the dark freckles scattered across her shoulders.

"You sure?" she asked almost cautiously, giving a glance to where the Toad lay. She didn't look at his face when she turned back to him, seeming to find a spot on his shoulder more interesting. "No ones'…hurt, right?"

Zoro's brow furrowed at the pause, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Just him," he murmured, nodding his head in the Toad's direction. "He just surprised us, that's all." He added as an afterthought.

The woman nodded after a moment, letting out an audible sigh of relief. She started to step away from him, but paused for a moment to look down at the Toad. "Vicious bastard's been nothing but trouble," she sneered after a second, shaking her head vehemently.

She finally turned to the Love Cook, her back facing Zoro. He wasn't sure how the woman looked at him, but the Cook gave an indifferent shrug to her, twirling the still unlit cigarette almost nervously between his teeth but still making no move to get his lighter.

The woman gave another sigh shoulder slumping tiredly. She turned to the Toad's body beside her, her gaze saddening a little as she studied the man's beaten form a little longer. "I just sent my eldest to get the 'thorities a little while ago," she said carefully, barely above a whisper, "They should be here soon. You boys should go on home."

The woman glanced at Zoro over her shoulder, scanning him over once more. "I'm sure it's been a long night."

Zoro felt a small breeze pass between his legs and realized that the ripped front of his pants was still showing. He could feel heat starting to crawl up his face and neck and pulled his haramaki down over the tears, eyes dropping to the graveled floor.

"Thank you, m'am." The Cook interjected, a tinge of uneasiness evident in his voice. Zoro glanced up at him through his lashes, his grip on the hem of his haramaki tightening slightly. The Love Cook gave a small, polite smile to the woman, starting to walk away. After a few steps he paused and turned to Zoro, his face carefully blank but not quite reaching his eyes.

"You coming, Zoro?" he asked quietly, jerking his head towards the road.

Zoro blinked dazedly at the Cook, legs feeling numb when he forced himself to move. The Cook turned around and headed towards the end of the alley again, reaching up to adjust his jacket as he moved. Zoro sped up until he was walking beside the Cook, giving his haramaki one last tug before crossing his arms over his chest once more. The woman wasn't too far behind them, her muffled footsteps barely audible over the heavy crunch of their shoes. As they reached the opening of the alleyway the Love Cook turned right, heading back the way they'd come. Zoro followed him without a word, rubbing absently at his arms. It felt colder without his shirt; Zoro cursed the stupid Toad under his breath for ripping it. The woman's footsteps died away when he and the Love Cook were a few houses down the road. Zoro glanced over her shoulder curiously, taking one last look at her. She was only a black silhouette under her lamp, and from a distance she looked more like a phantom than a person. Zoro's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he finally turned away, picking up his pace to catch up with the Love Cook.

It was quiet for a long time, their footsteps sounding thunderous on the dirt road. Crickets chirped insistently as they walked, after awhile it got on Zoro's nerves. The lanterns hanging above them were beginning to dim; dull, rust-colored light barely illuminating the street. Zoro had an idea of where he was now though – the buildings looked more familiar despite the darkness, and every once in a while he would recognize a sign or two. They were probably close to the _Merry_ but it was so dark it was impossible to tell how much farther they had to go.

The familiar click of a lighter caught Zoro's attention, turning to the Love Cook for the first time since they'd left the alley. The Cook was staring at the yellow flame of his lighter as he lit up his cigarette, expression caught somewhere between thoughtful and indifferent. He snapped the lighter shut and slipped it back into his jacket, turning to the sky as he took a long drag.

"So, what now Marimo?" The Love Cook sighed, a ghost white cloud streaming out lazily.

Zoro stiffened, nails digging into his forearms. "W-what?"

The Cook pulled the cigarette from his lips, another stream of smoke forming when he exhaled. He watched it drift through the air for a moment before he looked back to the road, twirling the cigarette between his middle and fore finger absently. "What the hell do we tell the others?" the Love Cook finally asked, barely loud enough for Zoro to hear.

Zoro shot him a puzzled frown. "We don't say anything, that's what." He growled, grimace deepening into a scowl.

The cigarette fell from the Love Cook's hand when he brought it to rub at his temples, closing his eyes with an aggravated sigh. "Marimo, they're going to know something's off. We can't just go back and not say anything."

"And why not?" Zoro snapped, coming to a stop, "We've come back injured before, haven't we?"

The Cook stopped a few steps ahead of him, pulling his hand away from his face and lowering it back to his side. He started to turn around but seemed to change his mind, glancing at Zoro over his shoulder. "This is serious, Marimo," the Love Cook retorted, anger rising in his voice, "It's the second time something like this has happened. You can't just do _nothing._"

"Who _said_ I'm doing nothing_?_" Zoro snarled, hands coming to his sides and clenching into fists. "We didn't say anything about this last time, what's the big deal?"

"It's different this time."

"How the hell's it different?! You didn't have trouble keeping it a secret before!"

Sanji whipped around to face him, mouth pulled into a fierce snarl and eyes blazing. His nostrils flared and he took a step closer, an almost animalistic sound rumbling in the back of his throat.

"_I thought it was a one time thing!_" he roared, "I didn't think that bastard would come _back_ and…"

He turned away again, reaching up to yank at his hair with a frustrated cry. It was silent for a minute before the Cook's hands slid down to massage his temples once more, cutting a glance to Zoro through his fingers. The fury hadn't quite left his features when he let his hands to slip away from his face, his fierce gaze meeting Zoro's.

"The man tried to fucking _rape_ you, Zoro!" Sanji shouted, gesturing wildly to the road in exasperation. "Don't you _get _that? It isn't something you just shrug off! I mean, for fuck's sake – _look at you!_"

Zoro couldn't think of anything to say to that, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. A heavy, unsettling feeling sank into his chest, his breath coming out in shallow huffs and making him feel dizzy and light headed. Sanji didn't say anything else though, chest and shoulders rising and falling with his heavy pants. His glare looked more horrified than angry now, staring at some unknown place on his chest rather than his eyes. Zoro felt another light breeze pass over his bare skin, the ripped fabric of his trousers brushing almost teasingly against it. His curiosity got the better of him and Zoro finally looked down, his eyes reluctantly falling to where the Cook was looking.

The amount of bruising Zoro saw was unnerving, angry red splotches that were steadily turning an ugly violet were spread across his lower stomach and disappeared under his haramaki. They were darkest along his sides and arms he noted, branching out into thick sausage shapes; and with a disgusted cringe Zoro realized he was looking at imprints of the Toad's hands. His right pant leg was torn, showing the fresh gash that ran from the middle of his thigh to his knee. The cloth around it was soaked with blood, sticking uncomfortable to his skin while a thick stream trailed down his leg and left small puddle beside his foot.

Zoro felt his pants start to slide below his hips again and quickly grabbed them before they could fall any lower, letting out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. For a moment he couldn't bring himself to look where his pants were ripped, his insides churning a little at the thought. _Quit stalling,_ Zoro growled to himself, and started tugging his pants back up and looking at the place the Toad had torn them.

The front of his trousers were almost gone. The button and fly were torn completely away, leaving a hole that showed most of his boxers. Most of the fabric between his legs was in tatters, only a few stray threads holding the seams together with tiny cuts from the Toad's blunt nails running along his skin. After a second Zoro noticed that one of the middle buttons on his boxers had been torn off, and he felt his face growing warm despite himself.

Sanji gave another low, aggravated sigh and Zoro looked back up at him, watching as he trudged to a bench a few feet away from them. He already had a new cigarette between his teeth, reaching into his breast pocket for his lighter as he sat down. The Cook didn't look at him as he lit the smoke, taking a long drag and watching the thick trail of white drift through the air. He was silent for a minute before he gave another groan, his free hand coming up to cover his eyes.

Zoro shifted on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. The Cook didn't move for a while, the burning ember of his cigarette glinting brightly under the dull lanterns. Zoro gave a low sigh, coming up and sitting beside Sanji. He couldn't tell if the Cook had noticed but didn't bother to see if he did, staring numbly at the gravel beneath his feet.

It was quiet again; Zoro couldn't even hear the crickets anymore. After a minute Zoro felt the Cook move and turned to him, watching the Love Cook lean forward from the corner of his eye. The Cook's hand dropped away from his face, resting his arms on his knees, twirling the cigarette lazily in his mouth.

"There's no way that the crew won't notice anything with bruises like that," he finally said, not bothering to look at him.

Zoro sighed, slouching against the wooden bench and making a low, irritated sound in the back of his throat. "That doesn't mean we have to tell them everything."

The Cook gave a grunt, taking the cigarette from his mouth and twirling it between his fingers. "It sounded like everything was being taken care of when we left anyways," he murmured, flicking the used cigarette away absently, "I don't want to bother the others with something that's already over."

Zoro nodded slowly, leaning his head against the back of the bench. "So," he sighed, watching bits of dust pass through the light above him, "What now, Cook?"

Sanji didn't answer right away, letting his head in the palm of his hand. "Tell them we got jumped and leave out the details, I guess," he said at last, shrugging his shoulders.

Zoro sat up, uncrossing his arms to scratch at the back of his head. "I can live with that," he replied quietly, his other arm coming to rest on the back of the bench.

Sanji gave a nod, turning back to the empty street. They didn't say anything for a while, and without the crickets the road was silent. The wood on the benches was abrasive on his back and Zoro leaned forward a little, letting his hands fall into his lap. After a moment he turned to the Love Cook, arching a brow in question. "Did that bastard kind of look like a toad to you?"

The Cook sat up with a jerk, his brow furrowing in bewilderment when he turned to look at him. His eyes darted to the sky a second later, seeming to search for the answer there before his mouth broke out into a wide grin.

"He _did_," Sanji chuckled, "Holy crap, he _did_."

His laugh got a little louder, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at how stupid it sounded. Zoro found himself laughing with him, leaning forward a little to stare at his knees.

After a minute, Sanji quieted down, clearing his throat awkwardly. Zoro felt him move again and looked up as the Cook stood up, straightening out the front of his jacket.

"We better get going," the Love Cook muttered, not bothering to look up at him, "The crew must be wondering what's taking us so long."

He started walking away, already reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. Zoro watched him for a second, giving one last chuckle before he stood up. He pulled his haramaki back over his pants and followed the Cook, stretching his arms lightly over his head. The Love Cook had all ready lit a fresh cigarette by the time Zoro caught up with him. His expression was more thoughtful now, staring at the road ahead of him as though he wanted to say something else, but couldn't find the words.

Zoro looked to the road, crossing his arms over himself when another cool breeze ran across his skin. They were probably close to the _Merry_; it wouldn't be long before they found the ship. Zoro took a deep breath, his hand coming to clutch the bandana still tied around his wrist, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them.

* * *

Author's Note: Oh. My. God. This is soooo overdue it's not even funny. I'm really, **really** sorry about this. I had to work on my college applications and between that, my classes, and my portfolio I lost my inspiration for a while. That and I broke up with my boyfriend so I got a little distracted and then there were finals…But the applications and portfolio are done. Best of all, **I got an acceptance letter from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago! :D** With just my classes now, I'm going to start writing this again.

Anyways, sorry about the wait. I'm not too proud of this chapter, since the beginning took so long to sound right and even now it still feels a little off. I'll probably go back and redo it later, but for now I'm just glad that I posted _something._ I know that the scene with the woman didn't seem needed, but it'll make more sense in about two chapters. I also wanted to show that this incident was a little bit more complicated compared to the one in the first chapter, and therefore had to be treated a little differently. Hopefully I got that point across. To be honest I kind of miss writing from Zoro's perspective, it's a lot of fun. Unfortunately I have to go back to Sanji for plot reasons, but then I'll probably be back to Zoro again. I'm rambling, sorry.

All right, thanks so much for you reviews and for being so patient. You're all awesome. On another note, I want to do a little survey:

"How many of you want to see Zoro get raped in a future chapter?"

Just curious. That, and I've gotten to a point where I could add in rape without really changing the plot too much. Mostly all it would do is add non-con, a few more chapters, and a little extra drama. (Crap, now it sounds tempting…) That, and I'm starting to realize that the Toad is leaving a few loose ends, and I kind of want to expand on the Toad's character a little - so I guess I'm asking more about the Toad than anything else. The rape part is a little iffy for me, but I do have a few ideas that could make it work; but as I said before, it can go either way. But if you want to see the Toad come back, just say so in a comment. ;)

Thank you for being so patient.

_Edit: Due to how some newer policies review replies in chapters now, all replies to reviews are being removed. Sorry. Thanks for the warning umino-gaara._

With Much Love,

BecauseIWasBored


	11. Notice, Please Read

**To all my wonderful readers:**

Hello everyone just wanted everyone to know I'm still alive and what I'm up to. I've been getting a few messages recently asking about this story, and since I finally have free time I thought I should explain. This isn't an excuse, and I still feel terrible, but I think you all deserve an explanation.

I didn't really expect to get much done since college comes first for me. But with one week to two-week deadlines on art projects and a six-hour work shift at Ghirardelli, I hardly have time to sit down. Hell, I don't even eat dinner any more, sometimes not even lunch. On average, I'm getting about 5 hours of sleep a night.

Does this mean I'm giving up on this story?

No.

This story has to be the most invented project I've put in writing, and I've learned a lot for it. It really makes me smile seeing so many people enjoying it, and I feel terrible disappointing people. I'm determined to see this to the end.

That and my dad found out I was writing this, read it, and then made me promise that I would finish it. Go figure.

So no, I'm not going to stop writing it, it's just going to be on hiatus when I'm in school. I'm going to be on break soon, and I'm going to get as much writing as I can get done on it.

On thing you should know however: upon re-reading it, I've come across parts in previous chapters that I really don't like anymore, and some parts I feel make no sense. Some readers pointed them out to me all ready, and some are just things I know won't work in later chapters I want to write. I plan to go back and re-write a few of those chapters. They won't be huge changes, but they'll probably make this make a lot more sense in the long run. I'll tell you which chapters have changed later on.

Also, there are some others stories I want to get started on, and I have requests that are due… a year ago. I'm really sorry about that mimifox; I have the plot written out for it and everything. T-T

I'll be going on break on the 22nd of December, and I'll get started as soon as I can. Also, my parents are apparently reading this story. Wave to my parents everyone!

Thank you for being such wonderful readers.

With Love,

BecauseIWasBored


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